


The Road to Recovery

by CheynneT



Category: Janet King (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2018-07-25 10:07:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 121,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7528585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheynneT/pseuds/CheynneT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A follow on from the end of series 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sergeant Bianca Grieve took a hurried second bite from the piece of cold toast she held in her hand. She only had time to partially chew it so she helped it down with a large swig of her coffee….too large it seemed as she coughed and spluttered to avoid choking. As she recovered, she tossed the remainder of the toast back onto the plate and dumped the coffee mug in the sink, all to be dealt with at some stage much later in the day. She then grabbed her coat from the back of the kitchen chair along with her leather briefcase containing the files she’d spent hours poring over the previous evening before dashing out the front door only to return seconds later to snatch her car keys from their hook and try again, all the while muttering something to herself about needing ‘ _a fucking miracle not to be late’_.

oooOooo

Earlier that morning, at the insistence of her alarm, Sergeant Grieve had partially woken, rolled over and in her semi-conscious state tapped the ‘Snooze’ button on her phone.  Confident that it would wake her again in ten minutes, she closed her eyes, hopeful that she would slip back into the pleasant dream that had been so rudely disrupted….a dream in which a leather-clad, high-heeled woman with riding crop in hand who, apart from the outfit, looked very much like Janet King QC, featured prominently.

If it hadn’t been for a loud but fortuitous backfiring of a car somewhere nearby almost an hour later, she would probably still be curled up contentedly in her bed, sleeping soundly, dreaming her delicious dream and innocently unaware of her tardiness. As it was, the noise, like a bullet exploding from a gun, had woken her with a sudden start making her heart leap in her chest, however, it was on checking the time on her phone that her pulse really began to race. She had pressed the ‘Off’ button by accident and had overslept by almost an hour!

Sheer panic propelled her from the bed and into the shower after which she gave herself a cursory drying off with the towel, thanking the goddesses as she did so for blessing her with enough foresight to have organised a fresh suit and ironed a clean shirt the night before. What she hadn’t counted on, however, was having no clean underwear left in her knickers drawer. _She really must take a day off and do some laundry,_ she thought to herself as she furiously opened one drawer after another and hurtled through the contents hoping to find a random pair of misplaced underwear but, having no luck, she hurriedly shut them again as best she could. In desperation, she dragged her gym bag from under the bed and rifled through it for the spare set of clothes that she often kept in there for after her workouts.

“Yeeesss,” she said with a pump of her fist as she located a fresh pair of knickers bundled at the bottom of the bag. They were white cotton with the fabric worn thin in patches and the elastic a little saggy but they met the minimum requirement in that they were clean. It was probably safe to say, they weren’t her most elegant pair but right now it was about necessity not appearance so they would have to do.

oooOooo

Bianca’s boarder of  several years now, Rhys, was a routinely-early riser and had already been up and tip-toeing around the house for almost two hours. Having completed his regular morning run followed by ablutions, he’d pottered about the kitchen preparing the coffee and toast for both of them as he did most week days. Usually he and Bianca would sit down at the table together to share a bit of idle chatter over breakfast but this morning  Rhys had eaten alone as Bianca had been a complete ‘no show’. He could only assume she was having a rare day off ….maybe she was unwell, although knowing her as well as he did, he was of the opinion that it would take a near-fatal disease to keep her home in bed. Maybe she was having a rostered day off. Rhys laughed to himself and shook his head. What was he thinking? He couldn’t remember Bianca ever actually taking an RDO even once in the whole time he’d lived there. Whatever the reason for her non-appearance, it seemed like she was indulging in some extra sleep so he took great care not to disturb her.  However, when she did finally appear in the kitchen, she had the look of a woman possessed with her hair still damp and bedraggled, her shirt only half tucked in and an agonized frown on her face. Rhys could only watch on in bewilderment from behind his newspaper as the normally organised and calm Bianca dashed around the kitchen like a whirling dervish, managing only a couple of bites of toast and a gulp of coffee before rocketing out of the front door only to re-enter seconds later to grab her car keys which she had forgotten in her fluster, before making her final exit leaving a trail of unintelligible mutterings behind her.

oooOooo

As she inserted the key into the ignition and turned it, Bianca let out an audible sigh of relief as the engine came to life. The last thing she needed was car trouble but the way her day was shaping up, it wouldn’t have been a total shock if the car had refused to co-operate. Now she had to hope that there were no bingles on the roads this morning to cause one of Sydney’s infamous gridlocks and really seal her fate.

Looking at the clock on her dashboard, she calculated that if all went well from here on in, she could still make it on time but what were her chances?  

As a Federal police officer there was almost nothing more embarrassing than turning up late for a court appearance even if it was only the committal hearing, for it was in the courts that their investigative efforts would culminate as the evidence was pieced together to form a seamless picture of events which would convince the upholders of justice that there was a case to be answered. Magistrates were notoriously unforgiving of anyone who caused delays in their already tight schedules, particularly if you were an officer of the law who should know better. No doubt, if she was to be late, she would also have to face the wrath of the Department of Public Prosecutions’ barrister assigned to the case who was relying on her recall of the investigation and knowledge of the facts in order to build a sound argument for trial. They, too, would not be impressed if she was to incur the ill will of the presiding magistrate.

oooOooo

Having made up some time with a run of green lights…. a couple of which may have actually been an amberish-green… and driving cautiously but perhaps ever so slightly over the speed limit in some places… Bianca didn’t want to lose those precious minutes gained searching for a place to park so rather than do circuits looking for a space, she nosed the car into the underground carpark of the Museum Towers, a large residential and commercial complex located directly opposite the Downing Centre where the Local Courts were housed and where she needed to be as soon as possible. Strictly speaking, parking was limited to residents and businesses of the Towers as well as a few privileged criminal lawyers but Bianca was much more willing to face the unlikely possibility and inconvenience of having her car towed than turning up late for court.

With ten minutes to spare, she quickly gathered her coat and briefcase from the backseat of the car, activated the door locks and hurried towards the lifts. She pressed vigorously at the button on the wall, hoping to bring the lift to her faster but it was entirely unnecessary as the metal jaws that were its doors slid open almost immediately and beckoned her in.

While she waited for the lift to carry her up the three levels to the foyer, annoyingly stopping at each, Bianca took the opportunity to tuck in her shirt, run her fingers through her hair by way of a comb and generally check that she was presentable.

As soon as the lift doors opened up to the ground floor, Bianca stepped into the foyer and in only a few quick strides had made her way back out onto the street. At a break in the traffic she crossed Castlereagh then rounded the corner into Liverpool Street. Assured that she would now reach the court room on time, she started to refocus her mind on the case she had been investigating and running through all the details in her head one more time.

At the entrance to the Downing Centre she took the steps two at a time then, after dodging a number of barristers distinct in their legal regalia and accompanied by assistants lugging small trolleys stacked with file boxes, she slipped through the glass doors and headed to the registers where the courtroom schedules were displayed. A glance at her watch told her she was still in the black.

Relieved to have finally made it and with minutes to spare, she took a deep breath to help her regain some composure after the morning’s mayhem. Although she had already checked the court details online several nights before, Bianca scanned the register until she found the ‘Collins’ case and confirmed that she was to go to courtroom 4 where Sylvia Ferguson was to be the presiding magistrate which wasn’t great news but it could have been worse. Given her start to the day, she was amazed it _wasn’t_ worse. It would have been totally within keeping of her luck thus far to see her nemesis, Magistrate Corey Hartford’s name beside the case.

As Bianca looked up from the register to reacquaint herself with the layout of the building and decide which direction to take to courtroom 4, her eyes fell on a familiar but unexpected figure standing only metres away from her….a figure that swept all previous sense of urgency from her mind…a figure that instantly scrambled her thoughts and left her frozen on the spot, unable to think what to do or where to go. If someone had so much as asked her at that moment what her name was she probably would not have been able to answer for standing there, barely ten metres from her, in her robes and wig and with her usual authoritive air, was the DPP’s Senior Prosecutor, Janet King.

Bianca could do nothing but watch on, mute and immobile, as Ms King stood those few paces away, deep in discussion with a young man who, Bianca surmised later, was her instructing solicitor, totally unaware of her presence. Janet King was the woman at the centre of Bianca’s most erotic of dreams as well as her worst nightmares.

Strangely enough, Bianca’s first and only coherent thought was of the less-than-attractive underwear she’d been forced to put on that morning but that was what Janet King did to her…she made her think about her underwear or, more precisely, that region of her body that the underwear sheathed.

oooOooo

Almost six months ago, Sergeant Bianca Grieve, as an officer of the Australian Federal Police, had been seconded to work for the New South Wales Royal Commission into Serious Firearms Crimes under the leadership of appointed commissioner, Janet King, an astute, confident woman whose reputation for being professionally unshakeable preceded her into each and every courtroom she entered and had seen her career path take a steep upward trajectory.

Bianca and Janet had worked together briefly once before when Bianca had played a small but nonetheless crucial part in an investigation on another of Janet’s cases. It was true to say that at the end of it all each had been impressed by the other and it was for that reason Janet had requested Bianca’s presence as part of the team on the Royal Commission. While flattered by the request, if not slightly daunted by the woman and the authority which she wielded by her mere presence, Bianca could not help the familiar feelings of attraction that she found Janet King QC stirred inside her. However, it was all rather futile as, on the one or two occasions Bianca had ventured towards the more personal with the woman….a touch here, a smile there, a few kind words when she thought she might need them…. it was made painfully obvious why Ms King had quite justly earned the nickname of The Ice Queen. It was to be strictly business only, albeit in a collegial manner.

Going into the Commission, Bianca was well aware of the personal burden Janet carried. Two years earlier Janet had lost her partner, Ash, in the most horrific of circumstances. Ashleigh Larsson had been murdered…callously shot down by a single bullet as she entered their home, her slain body to be discovered by Janet soon afterwards. At that time the reason for the killing was uncertain although theories were rife….Revenge against Janet? A random shooting? A case of mistaken identity? Something as cold as killing for the mere thrill of it? No motive had ever been firmly established and its perpetrator to this point in time remained unknown. Despite pursuing even the smallest of possible clues and all probable and even improbable hypotheses, the investigation that followed could turn up no likely suspects so, as a consequence, it had ground to a halt with the puzzle left unsolved.

As well as being devastated by the death of her partner, Bianca knew that to someone like Janet who needed all the loose ends to be neatly tied up for her mind to be at rest, the unsolved nature of this crime would have been torturous. Inevitably it was be the driving force behind her accepting the commission, regardless of the extra workload it created for her which, in turn, consumed even more of her time, a commodity she was poor in already as she was now responsible for raising her children single-handedly. It wasn’t meant to be like this. Before the twins were even conceived, she and Ash had discussed every aspect of their impending parenthood and made detailed plans for the immediate and into the more distant future. Once the twins were born and could be bottle-fed, Ash would stay at home and take care of them while Janet took up her career again. It made sense as Janet’s yearly income was more than double what Ash could make as a teacher. Together they were going to watch their children grow up, sharing their every milestone and supporting them in their every endeavour whether it be a performance in a school play, a sporting match or a university graduation. However, things did not work out that way. The fortunes of fate far outweighed even the powers of Janet King.

Ironically, it was Ash’s death that made Janet fully realise that she was surrounded by people who truly cared about her and who were more than willing to help her out, particularly with the children. Slowly but surely, she learned to accept this help and could now ask for it freely without necessarily feeling weak or needy…two states she couldn’t abide.

With this invisible wound still on the mend, Bianca could also fully understand Janet’s hesitancy to become emotionally involved with someone else if indeed that was the reason for her lack of response to Bianca’s attempts at friendship. Bianca reluctantly also had to consider that maybe the attraction wasn’t mutual although she was convinced that there was something there, particularly as she had caught Janet out on more than one occasion over the weeks they had been working together, giving her what could be quite easily interpreted as ‘the once over’ when she thought Bianca wasn’t looking.

Some weeks into the Commission it had all turned unexpectedly personal. The lives of Janet and her children had come under direct threat so immediate measures were taken to ensure their safety. The twins were whisked off for an indefinite stay with their grandmother while Janet was given household protection with a body guard allocated to be with her around the clock. That job was offered to Bianca. It was one that she accepted without a moment’s hesitation, grateful that she would personally be able to ensure Janet’s safety and make certain the job was done properly even if it meant long shifts sitting alone in her car outside Janet’s house, wearily fighting off the boredom while well and truly putting herself in the first line of fire should anything come of the threats.

Much to Bianca’s surprise and immense pleasure, the job had turned out to be far more rewarding than she would have ever expected and in a way she had only dreamed of.

As Bianca stood outside Janet’s front door about to knock and let Janet know what was happening… that, as of now, she was on duty and there for her if she needed her… a taxi had pulled up at the kerb.  It was with some amusement that she listened as Janet thanked the driver who she seemed to be on first name terms with and then watched as she alighted from the taxi. Despite the darkness, the glow from the exterior light of Janet’s house as well as a nearby streetlight provided enough illumination by which Bianca could see that Janet had to struggle slightly to remain steady on her feet. Had she had a little too much to drink? That would explain her use of the taxi.

Once inside her home, a converted warehouse now luxury apartment, it became apparent that Janet _was_ actually a little tipsy and as she relaxed in the comforting familiarity of her home she all but gave up on the pretence of complete sobriety. Bianca could also see that the wall of professional steeliness that was usually steadfast in place, had been lowered slightly exposing a far more personable Janet King. An interesting, if not slightly confusing skew on the woman she knew from during work hours.

After explaining that she was there to provide police protection for Janet, Bianca was about to return to her car so as to begin her watch when Janet had made her move. She had sidled up considerably closer to Bianca…much closer than they would ever normally stand…close enough to make Bianca’s pulse race in anticipation of what she dared to hope might happen next… and invited her to stay unless, of course, sitting for endless hours alone in her car was more appealing. Perhaps emboldened by the amount of wine she had drunk….considering the outcome, Bianca didn’t much care about the cause….Janet completely discarded her professional armour and moved in for the kiss. Like most first kisses, it had begun a little clumsily but had very quickly heated up into something more sensual…something more demanding.

On that evening, almost five months ago…four months, two weeks and three days to be exact but who’s counting… Janet had lead Bianca by the hand up to her bedroom where she had steadily undressed her….slow enough to excite and entice…fast enough to sate the rapidly rising physical need each had for the other ….and they had made love, once, twice, more…until Bianca had lost count and their bodies craved sleep.

Although it was far from the first time for either women, Bianca, at least, recognized it as something truly special…. the way her heart raced at the touch of Janet’s lips on her bare skin; the way she had to fight the urge to smile like a Cheshire cat with Janet’s blue-eyed gaze upon her; the ease with which they melded in mutual desire to share the one skin, the one breath…..she had never experienced feelings quite as intense as those before.

That night Janet proved her proficiencies to be in more than the area of mere law with her penchant for thoroughness and success extending into play as well as her work. Although, it was the level of vulnerability that Janet allowed herself….not something normally seen in the woman….that Bianca found equally impressive. The façade of Ice Queen that she wore during the day had not only melted but had become white-hot steam.

Bianca found herself naked in Janet’s bedroom on a number of occasions over the next week which was as good a place as any from which to keep watch she figured. However, it was always that first night that she called up in her memory when thinking of Janet.

Days later the investigation reached a tense and tumultuous climax. A woman blaming Janet for the death of her husband, had taken the twins with the intention of using them as part of her plan to seek retribution.

In the time leading up to the drama, Bianca had gone home to pack some fresh clothes and head to Janet’s place. It was as she spoke on the phone to Janet who was in her office awaiting the download of the Dutch DNA face morphology results, that the events swiftly unfolded. When the long-awaited identity of Ash’s killer appeared on the computer screen as clear and accurate as a photograph, Janet had recognized it immediately as someone who was all too familiar to them. That someone had just left the room with both of her children!

_“It’s Peta,” Janet’s terrified voice had said into the phone._

_“Janet, what is it?”_

_“The face…it’s Peta.”_

_“Coffee girl Peta?”_

_“Yes, it’s almost a photograph.”_

_“Oh shit…..”_

It had been Bianca who had arrived on the scene first and who had fired off the necessary shot that had brought an end to the frightening ordeal, her actions disabling the killer and returning the children, unharmed, to safety. It had been Bianca who had watched on as a relieved but distraught Janet bundled her children into the backseat of the car and drove off. That had been the last Bianca had seen or heard of Janet King on that day or any day since.

oooOooo

Appreciating that Janet would in all likelihood want time to be with her family and to work her way through all the implications of this latest ordeal…the attempt on the lives of her children….finally knowing who had killed Ash and the reason behind it….coming to terms with the fact that the bullet had actually been intended for her….Bianca had decided to give her some space. She would not to intrude unless, of course, Janet asked her to but as days turned into weeks and nothing was heard from her…no phone calls or texts, no replies to the increasingly concerned messages she had left, no emails, nothing at all…Bianca felt a tight knot of anxiety form in her gut. Was Janet alright? Were _they_ alright…her and Janet? Although, she wasn’t a hundred percent sure if indeed there even was a ‘they’ for there had only been a ‘handful’ of nights together before it had all ostensibly ended and yet Bianca couldn’t  help but think there had been more to it than just the physical. Had Janet simply used her to fulfil a sexual need? Bianca didn’t think Janet was even capable of such shallowness but how well did she actually know the woman when she really got down to it?

On several occasions Bianca had considered driving over to Janet’s house and confronting her, asking her directly why she hadn’t spoken to her or at least contacted her in some way. Didn’t she understand that Bianca was worried about her? Didn’t it occur to Janet that the polite thing to do would be to answer at least one message or even call to tell her that she didn’t want to continue what they had? But then Bianca would think to herself, _“What was it that they had anyway? Had anything really started in such a short time? Had she been reading too much into it all?”_ Bianca didn’t think she had. She had been of the impression that her own feelings were being reciprocated but clearly she had been wrong.

Once or twice Bianca had gone as far as driving in the direction of Janet’s house but each time she had changed her mind at the last minute and turned around as her sense of pride wouldn’t allow her  to be chasing after someone who wasn’t interested enough to reply to her messages and whose intentions she had obviously misread.

Along the grapevine which was more efficient than ever these days thanks to social media, Bianca had heard that Janet had taken indefinite leave from the Department of Public Prosecutions with the possibility that she may even resign altogether. It was also rumoured that she had moved interstate with the children. That was it then, Bianca had decided. Time to move on and so she had given it her best shot but that didn’t stop her tuning in to conversations when she thought she heard Janet’s name mentioned or looking out for any reference to her in relation to court cases or investigations. The latest information she’d been able to glean while having a conversation with Detective Inspector Andy Campbell was that Janet had taken the children overseas for an extended holiday but he hadn’t volunteered any extra details…there was no mention as to where they had gone or when they would return….and Bianca didn’t like to ask for fear of sounding suspiciously like a stalker.

Forced to accept the irrefutable evidence that said Janet had moved on, Bianca set about doing the same which meant throwing herself into her work with exhausting gusto broken only by a few hours of sleep here and there, giving her no time to dwell on thoughts of Janet King.

oooOooo

That had all been several months ago now and in those months Bianca had come to terms with the fact that Janet was gone from her life…the woman was out of her reach….or so she would have believed until this moment. Now that Janet stood only a few short steps away from her, Bianca was conscious of her pulse quickening and the flurry in her stomach of a thousand butterflies. She was also aware of the rising heat of anger which prickled her skin and set her jaw firmly. She wanted nothing more than to rush over to Janet and demand to know what the hell was going on. Why had not one of her messages been answered? Would it have been so damn hard to call? Was it really asking too much? But Bianca couldn’t…not here…not now….so instead she remained languishing on the spot like a fish out of water, barely able to breathe.

It was only as Janet and her assistant turned away from her and headed toward the courtrooms that Bianca’s mind reconnected, reminding her that she too had somewhere to be. Another glance at her watch told her she needed to hurry.

Bianca made her way to courtroom 4, stepping lively as she did, while making a concerted effort to clear her mind of all thoughts of Janet, focussing instead on the evidence she would need to deliver to the magistrate in just a few short minutes.

oooOooo

After a brief post-mortem of the outcome of the hearing with the DPP’s barrister followed by an earnest commitment made by both to strengthen the case, Bianca collected her files and her briefcase and left the courtroom, her frustration with the result barely under control.

_“Case dismissed! The evidence too circumstantial! What is circumstantial about a kilogram of amphetamines and almost $100K in cash hidden in the boot of the guy’s car? Of course he’s going to deny any knowledge of it but even Blind Freddie can see he’s lying! Who do you have to sleep with to get a trial around here?”_

As she marched along the corridor towards the building’s exit, Bianca could feel a head of steam building up, partially because of the outcome but also because she blamed herself to some extent for the magistrate’s decision. She hadn’t presented the evidence as clearly as she might have. She had let herself be distracted.

_“How are we supposed to keep this stuff off the streets if we’re hijacked by decisions like this? Maybe I should have stayed in bed after all.”_

It was as Bianca was striding across the main foyer towards the doors, her thoughts still caught up in the ridiculousness of the magistrate’s ruling, that she smacked straight into one of the many ‘billowing black robes’ moving around the building completely absorbed in their own particular mission. The impact of the collision knocked Bianca’s files from her arms and scattered them on the floor.

 _“What the hell?”_ Bianca muttered vehemently as she bent down to gather up her precious paperwork, her reaction aimed more at the powers that were determined to ruin her day than anyone else. As she scooped the sheets of paper back into their folders she offered up a belated apology to the person she had bumped into who was still standing beside her. It was only when this person bent down to help her with the files that Bianca bothered to glance up to see who it was. Her gaze met the unmistakeable blue eyes, blonde hair and strong jaw-line that could only belong to one person.

“Janet?!” Bianca said, failing to keep the surprise out of her voice. “Sorry about….I wasn’t watching where I was….I was thinking about….Are you alright?”

The corners of Janet’s mouth edged up ever so slightly in an amused smile.

“I’m fine…..Let me help you with those,” Janet offered, her voice and manner far more controlled but then she was used to keeping her emotions on a tight rein.

That initial moment of recognition was followed by an awkward, embarrassed silence as both women were equally unprepared for this moment that fate had flung at them so they filled the void by concentrating on shuffling the spilled papers into the folders.

With all the papers back in their rightful place, both women got to their feet again. To avoid another ‘spill’ Bianca put the files into her briefcase, something she should have done in the first place.

As Janet handed Bianca the two folders she had picked up and still had in her hands, Bianca gave her a polite ‘thank you.’ It was all she could manage to say despite, over the months, having stored away in her brain a thousand questions she wanted to ask should they meet up again but now that the opportunity had arisen her synapses had become sluggish with the shock and she struggled to put together even the most basic sentence.

“How are you?” Janet asked. Her smile had tightened.

“Good….Fine….You? The twins?”

“We’re all doing well now, thanks.” Janet ran a quick appraising eye over Bianca and ventured, “You’re looking...good…great.”

“Yeah….thanks….you too.” Bianca winced as she heard her words...painful platitudes….but there seemed little else they could say to one another that wouldn’t threaten to burst open that oppressive cloud that hung between them.

Finally, it was Janet who broke free of the banalities.

Her voice was low and her expression now more serious, more subdued.

“We should probably find a time to talk.”

Janet was aware that she was most likely entering sensitive territory, one of her own making, and she wasn’t sure how Bianca would react.

At those words, Bianca felt her whole body tense like a fighter’s fist as her frustration began to build again but this time it was aimed at Janet.

 _“Really?”_ she thought sarcastically but replied, “Sure…that would be good,” with a nonchalance that belied her irritation. Somehow Janet always ended up being the one calling the shots but Bianca wasn’t going to let her annoyance deny her a chance to have her questions answered.

It was as Janet was about to suggest that Bianca might come over for dinner that night that their attention was drawn by the sound of a voice not too far away calling Bianca’s name. Both women turned in unison towards the voice. It was a woman about their own age if not slightly younger and as she approached them Janet couldn’t help but note how absurdly attractive she was.

“Hi, Bianca,” the woman said as she wrapped her arms around Bianca enthusiastically and kissed her cheek before noticing Janet standing there and realising that she was probably interrupting. “Oh….excuse me,” she added a little more meekly, “I didn’t mean to butt in like that.”

“It’s fine,” Bianca reassured her as she made the obligatory introductions. “Janet, this is Tahlia. Tahlia this is….”

“Janet King….yes, I know,” Tahlia interjected as she stretched out a hand towards the barrister. “I work for the courts and, as I’m sure you’re aware, your reputation is well-known around here.”

“Mmmm….I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not,” Janet only half-joked as she shook the woman’s hand. Tahlia’s lack of response did not reassure Janet. Instead Tahlia turned to Bianca and asked, “Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

“Of course….I’ll bring the wine….Red or white?”

“Both….I’ll see you around seven then.”

With a final peck to Bianca’s cheek, Tahlia moved off to join the lunchtime exodus from the building.

As Janet watched Bianca watching Tahlia leave, suddenly the penny dropped. Bianca had moved on.

_“Of course she had! Why was she so surprised?” Janet asked herself. “Had she expected Bianca to wait around pining for her, particularly since she hadn’t responded to the many messages or stayed in touch? But there had been a reason for that.”_

They were reasons Janet felt a sudden urge to explain to Bianca even if it was too late for them to rekindle what they had started which, she had to admit, was something she had thought about now that the dust of recent dramas had settled and she and her family were well on the road to recovery from their ordeal.

“I was going to suggest we could talk over dinner tonight but obviously you’re already spoken for….”

Not wanting to let the opportunity go, Bianca quickly took up the slack. “We could have dinner at my place later in the week…if you want….if you can get a sitter.”

Janet gave her one of those smiles that instantly dispersed any remnants of the irritation she might have still been harbouring.

“Sounds perfect….I’m sure Tony can look after Liam and Emma….He owes me a favour so I’ll call it in.”

“Does Friday night suit....around 6… or 7?”

“Sure.”

With little else left to say at that point, Bianca made an excuse about having to get back to the office while Janet indicated that she needed to be in court and then, almost reluctantly, they turned and headed in their various directions. Perhaps her day hadn’t been a total loss after all, Bianca thought, although she still had to hope that her car hadn’t been towed and that the dodgy elastic in her underwear lasted out the rest of the day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Bianca had to all but strongarm Rhys, her boarder, down the hallway towards the front door to eventually be rid of him. In the vain hope that he would take the hint and make himself scarce for the evening, Bianca had let it slip that afternoon that she had invited someone…okay, a woman….over for dinner, however, her idea had backfired badly. Now he was firmly ensconced in her kitchen, constantly underfoot and determined to find out all there was to know about this ‘mystery woman,’ asking a barrage of questions… questions Bianca preferred not to or, in some instances, could not answer. His inquisitiveness was not helping at all as she had a myriad of things to get done and only a short amount of time to do them in before she was expecting Janet to arrive.

“What does she do?”

“Where did they meet?”

“Is she gorgeous?”

“Have you slept together?”

“Are you in love with her?”

The questions came thick and fast. Bianca tried to fend them off by insisting that the woman was merely a friend she was catching up with but Rhys wasn’t having a bar of it. He knew when she was out to impress despite the air of nonchalance she was trying to assume.

“Please don’t tell me she’s another Feng shui expert intent on moving all our furniture in order to _harmonise our environment_ ,” he asked hanging quotation marks in the air and performing a dramatic roll of the eyes. “You do realise I broke two toes when your last _dalliance_ ….what was her name?....Ingrid?.....moved the sofa and I came home one night unsuspecting and slightly worse for wear…..”

It was one comment too many. Bianca finally lost her patience with him.

“Rhys, you can ask me questions until you’re blue in the face but I haven’t got any answers for you so enough already!....And, for the record, she’s not moving in, she’s just coming for dinner so she won’t be rearranging any furniture,” she snapped.

It was something she instantly regretted as she looked up at his hurt expression.

“What can I say? I’m just excited for you,” Rhys explained as he picked up a piece of carefully-sliced capsicum and popped it in his mouth, “because let’s face it, it’s been a long time between drinks for you, if you know what I mean.”

Despite the doleful face he was using, Bianca knew when she was being teased.

“Well, we can’t all be sluts, can we?” she retaliated giving him an accusatory glare.

“No…true….while some of us aspire to greatness others….well, others, quite frankly, could try a little harder.”

As much as she usually enjoyed their verbal jousting, Bianca didn’t have the time or the inclination for it right now. She grabbed him firmly by the wrist and dragged him towards the door.

“It’s time for you to leave,” she informed him in a tone that indicated she wasn’t to be messed with, “and don’t hurry home.”

“Where am I going to go?” he asked pathetically.

“I don’t know…..Brett’s place?”

“Brett and I broke up over a month ago….remember?....and I can’t really afford to go out….pay day isn’t until next week.” That doleful expression was back on his face.

Bianca blew a long puff of air from her cheeks in frustration as she reached into her briefcase that hadn’t made it any further than the entranceway that afternoon and took out her wallet.

“Here, go light up Oxford Street,” she said as she handed him a fifty dollar note.

Rhys couldn’t restrain a small, derisive laugh.

“That just shows how long it’s been since you’ve been out on the town….that might get me three drinks if I’m lucky….two, if they’re cocktails.”

Bianca resignedly added an extra twenty dollar note to the enticement. If he wanted any more she’d have to go to the coin section of her wallet.

Rhys looked at the money with uncertainty. He didn’t usually accept such bribes…well, not from Bianca, at least…. but he really was skint at the moment so he relieved her of it, pecked her cheek and headed off.

 “I won’t wait up,” she called after him before shutting the door decisively and returning to the kitchen where she had been in the process of chopping up fresh vegetables.

In the brief time she’d known Janet King on a more intimate level, she hadn’t had the opportunity to discover her culinary likes and dislikes so Bianca had decided to stick with a Thai recipe she had. It was something she knew Janet liked. She would prepare all the basic ingredients now so that when they were ready to eat, it would simply be a matter of tossing it altogether in a hot wok with some sesame seed oil, the necessary sauces and noodles then hoping for the best.

Once all the food preparations were done and the bottle of wine she’d brought up from her cellar was chilling, Bianca glanced up at the clock on the wall….6:45pm. They had arranged for 7 o’clock. To pass the time and help herself relax, Bianca thought about pouring herself a glass of wine from a bottle that was already opened but then, on second thoughts, decided against it. She wanted to have all her wits about her tonight. Instead, she wandered into the living room where she had left her phone on the coffee table. She picked it up and connected it to her speakers then searched for some suitable music.

_Damn! She didn’t even know what type of music Janet liked._

After flicking through several of her playlists but finding nothing that she was happy with, Bianca abandoned the idea entirely and made her way back to the kitchen. She would have that glass of wine after all.

As she past the French doors that opened out to her tiny, rear courtyard, she caught sight of her reflection in the glass. She had decided to dress casually – a pair of blue slim-fit jeans and a favourite t-shirt – but was it too casual? She hadn’t wanted Janet to think she had gone to a whole lot of bother and had expectations of the evening beyond reassuring herself that Janet was alright and finding out why she had avoided contacting her but she also didn’t want it to look like she didn’t care at all.  For a fleeting moment, Bianca considered changing and then thought _, “To hell with it…it’s my house…my invitation…I’ll dress how I want….Janet doesn’t get to call the shots here.”_ She then nipped up to her bedroom and swapped the T-shirt for her dressier turquoise shirt.

Just as she was about to fill her glass, music began emanating from her living room….Jen Foster’s “I Didn’t Just Kiss Her.” It was her phone… _(Damn it! Tahlia had been playing with her ring tones again! There would be payback!)_ … telling her she had a call. Her heart sank. Was it Janet ringing to give some excuse for not being able to make it after all or, possibly worse still, was it work calling to say they had an emergency and she was needed at the scene of a crime urgently? Strictly speaking, she was on a three-day break but, as a police sergeant with the AFP, that meant nothing. A minimal social life or very limited time to one’s self was a hazard of the job.

Bianca picked up the phone from the coffee table and looked at the screen. Janet.

 _“Here goes,”_ Bianca thought, although she tried to sound more optimistic as she answered, “Hi Janet….How are you?”

“Hi, Bianca…yes, I’m fine…I’m just calling to let you know that I’m running a bit late….”

Bianca realised she’d been holding her breath which she released as she relaxed.

“Tony had a last minute family crisis of some description and couldn’t look after the twins so I’ve had to take them to my mother’s,” Janet explained and then added, “They’re staying with her for the weekend…I’ll pick them up Sunday afternoon.”

_Was she supposed to read something into that piece of information, Bianca wondered?_

“That’s fine, Janet…No rush… the food isn’t going anywhere,” Bianca said, managing to keep her voice casual.

“According to the GPS, I’m not too far away…five minutes…ten at the most.”

“Okay….I’ll see you soon.”

Bianca hung up the phone and immediately went back into the kitchen to pour that drink.

It wasn’t that Janet made her nervous….well, she did but not in the way she made others nervous…the people at work. They were often intimidated by Janet’s ‘pull-no-punches’ manner and her determination to succeed. Bianca’s nervousness was brought on by far more primal instincts. Without even trying, the woman seemed to be able to flick on switches inside her and set her senses on a hair trigger.

Janet indicated a left turn as she slowed and steered the Audi into Bianca’s street, although ‘street’ was a bit of an exaggeration as it was more of a narrow laneway as were most in McMahon’s Point, an old, historically-significant harbourside suburb of Sydney. She slowly cruised along looking at house numbers until she came to No. 28, the first in a row of three old terrace houses. The other two houses had obviously been recently renovated and repainted. Bianca’s, however, although still solid, was the original red brick and in need of a little TLC.

With the street being so narrow and very few homes having the luxury of their own garage, parking spots were at a premium so Janet had to drive on considerably further before finding a space in which to leave her car.

As she walked back towards Bianca’s house she tried to sort out in her mind what it was exactly she was going to say. How could she adequately explain her reasons for what must have seemed to Bianca as though she had deliberately ignored her to the point where Bianca had moved on and found somebody else? Would she understand the degree to which having to stay strong for the sake of the children but also needing to deal with her own emotions…emotions that seemed to have hollowed her out and filled her with grief once again…had made her vulnerable, a state where she felt very uncomfortable and unable to deal with any added complexities in her life? What she wouldn’t tell her was how much she had been hoping that once all had been set straight in her life that there might have been some chance, however slim, of picking up any threads of their friendship that remained and slowly, steadily weaving them back into the relationship that they had only just begun before everything went awry. However, that chance had clearly passed her by.

Janet’s knuckles had barely finished knocking on the door when it was opened and Bianca was there inviting her in.

“Sorry about the parking situation,” Bianca said apologetically as she led Janet inside, “a hazard of living in the older suburbs, I’m afraid….Did you have far to walk?”

“Not too far, really. It's fine….I need the exercise,” Janet replied as she followed Bianca along a narrow hallway at the end of which were two sets of stairs, one set hugged the wall and went steeply up to the next floor but they took the second set of three steps that led down into a well-appointed kitchen. Janet noticed that while the outside was a little neglected, the interior had been lovingly restored; nothing too overt but rather, a subtle touch that leaned towards comfort. She could easily imagine Bianca living here.

“Have you lived here long?” Janet asked as much for the sake of conversation as out of curiosity.

“I grew up in this house….My aunt left it to me when she died twelve years ago,” Bianca said as she reached down two wine glasses from a glass-fronted kitchen cupboard. She could see Janet’s brain processing that bit of information as she went on to explain, “My parents died in a car accident…their vehicle was hit by a truck….when I was eight and my brother, Graham, was six. Our Aunt Sophie, my father’s sister, took us in and brought us up.”

“Oh. I’m sorry….I didn’t realize….”

Janet felt completely foolish as she had never stopped to consider that perhaps Bianca had experienced a similar kind of loss in her life to her own. The enormous burden of grief suffered with the loss of one you have truly loved tended to take hostage of your heart and demand such a ransom of pain that it seemed impossible at times that anyone else could have been through it and survived. It confines you in what feels like a solitary world of agony and yet, in reality, there were people everywhere experiencing this same thing every day in various ways. Bianca, it seems, was one of these people.

“It’s okay, Janet…it was a long time ago and we haven’t really had a chance to …..,” Bianca cut herself short. She had been going to say ‘get to know each other’ but after so many months out of each other’s lives it seemed too personal referring to the time they had had together. After all, she didn’t know what Janet’s intentions actually were. Maybe she would simply use tonight to explain what happened…to clear her conscience… and then that would be the last she would hear from her so instead, she changed tact. “I won’t say that you forget it or stop wondering what it would have been like if it didn’t happen but it does get easier to cope with in time… Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Yes, thank you…that would be nice,” Janet said as she added to herself, “ _and it would give me something to do with my mouth other than putting my foot in it.”_

“My aunt was quite well-off….a very astute business woman. She bought up several properties in the area way back in the sixties and rented out all except this place….this is where the three of us lived,” Bianca continued as she poured the wine into the glasses.  “By the time she died she had sold all but two of the properties; she kept this one and another a few streets away which was left to my brother. There is no way I would have been able to actually buy this place…not with the price of real estate in this area at the moment….not on my wage.”

She handed Janet a glass of wine.

“Let’s go in the living room,” Bianca suggested, “unless, of course, you’re hungry…I could cook dinner now if you like….it will only take five…ten minutes.”

“No…no…I’m fine…Let’s have this first,” Janet insisted, raising her glass and giving Bianca one of those smiles that in the past had often brought her completely undone and was having a similar effect right now.

“Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

Before she could break any of the promises she had made to herself about remaining completely platonic with Janet, Bianca led the way into the living room where she made herself comfortable at one end of a red leather sofa. Janet thought for a moment about sitting in the single seat but decided instead to join Bianca on the sofa, sitting a discreet distance away.

“Your house is lovely…very ‘you’,” Janet said as she once again took in her surrounds that were all so tastefully done. There was an underlying use of restraint which served to increase the impact of the one or two bolder objects in the room, including the sofa. This particular room had a large abstract oil painting of two women on one wall and a number of the soft furnishings took their colour tones from the painting. It was all quite contemporary, belying the historic shell of the building.

Janet’s compliment was rewarded with a modest smile.

“Thanks….Renovating it has been a painstaking job and sometimes just a pain in the arse that I wish I’d never started….I rarely get enough time to really get stuck into anything, what with work and…well, just work…so it’s been dragged out. It seems to have taken forever to get this far but I’m nearly there….only the study upstairs to go and then I’m finished.”

“Oh…so you did it all yourself?” Janet said with no attempt to hide her surprise.

“Most of it…Graham helped with the kitchen and I had an electrician do the wiring, of course….but the ‘nuts and bolts’ of it was done by me….As you can see, I’m not averse to using the occasional power tool or picking up a paintbrush and slapping on a bit of paint.”

“A woman of many talents,” Janet replied, her eyes capturing Bianca’s with a look that quite possibly insinuated another meaning. “I’m very impressed.”

_“Was the woman flirting with her,” Bianca had to wonder to herself, “or was it just wishful thinking?”_

 “Do you live here on your own?” Janet asked, wishing she didn’t sound quite so transparent.

“No…”

Janet’s heart dropped. She had secretly hoped that the relationship with Tahlia wasn’t too serious but if they were living together….

“I have a boarder…Rhys….He lives here too but he’s gone out for the evening as he often does on a Friday night,” Bianca explained. “He was a friend of a friend who had nowhere to go at the time so I said he could stay here until he found a place….which he has never done. That was over four years ago now…but he knows how to use the coffee machine so I let him stay.”

“Oh, so Tahlia doesn’t live here with you?” The words had escaped before Janet could stop them.

Looking confused, Bianca said, “No….why would you think Tahlia …..?”

Seeing the sudden flush of embarrassment on Janet’s face, Bianca quickly put two and two together.

“Tahlia and I have been best friends since high school but, unfortunately, she’s straight….and she’s my brother’s wife as well as mother to my niece and nephew,” Bianca explained, at the same time restraining a small laugh as she pondered what Janet had possibly been thinking all week.

For the second time that evening, Janet was feeling a bit caught out but she was also secretly relieved and suddenly full of renewed hope. However, she didn’t want to dwell on her misunderstanding or have to actually verbalise what she had been thinking so she quickly changed the subject.

“This wine is going straight to my head….maybe we should eat.”

“Sure,” Bianca agreed as she stood up, collected the wine glasses which were now empty and led the way back to the kitchen. “Another?” she asked, indicating to the wine glasses and to which Janet nodded in reply. Both glasses were promptly filled and returned to their owners.

While Bianca busily retrieved all the makings of dinner and lay them out on the bench ready for use, Janet perched herself on a stool on the opposite side of the island….her offer to help having been steadfastly refused….and cast her eyes about the kitchen until they came to rest on a row of a dozen or so small, metal canisters arranged neatly on a bottom shelf that piqued her curiosity enough that she went over for a closer look. Each canister was neatly labelled with names such as _Ginseng, Peppermint, Chamomile, Hibiscus_ ….

“So you really are a tea connoisseur?”

Bianca looked over to see Janet closely inspecting her selection of herbal teas.

“Mmmm…..There’s a tea for just about anything ‘what might ail you’….and you’d be surprised how well they work.”

Janet took down a canister and read the label. “Ginger and ginseng. What does that do?”

“Helps with indigestion and poor circulation.”

Janet replaced that canister and read off another label.

“Chamomile?”

“Comforts the brain….eases stress,” Bianca replied as she poured a healthy lug of sesame seed oil into the wok.

“What about….” Janet ran a finger along a number of the other labels. “Lemongrass?”

Bianca laughed. “Lemongrass soothes bloating and flatulence.”

“I’m hoping to avoid the need for that one at all,” Janet said as she perused the remaining canisters. “Ah….here’s one that sounds ‘less gassy’ …. Jasmine ….What does Jasmine tea do?”

Bianca didn’t reply straight away. Instead, she filled the gap with the chopping of carrots. They didn’t really need more chopping but she needed to chop.

Finally, after a quick clearing of the throat, she said, “It’s supposed to be an aphrodisiac….it…um… stimulates blood flow….I couldn’t say for certain whether it works or not.”

“Mmmm…I’ll keep that one in mind for….the future.”

Even though her back was turned to her, Bianca could sense the teasing smile forming on Janet’s face and the presence of a playfulness that she knew only a privileged few ever got to witness.

oooOooo

Dinner had gone well. The meal had surpassed Bianca’s expectations, even if she said so herself or, at least, thought as much. Janet had also complimented her on her culinary skills as she presented her plate for a second helping.

Conversation had flowed freely albeit on topics that were safe ground. Work had been the mainstay. Bianca had vented her frustration with the failure of her most recent investigation into the importation and sale of drugs to make it to trial as the evidence to date was deemed all too circumstantial by the pernickety Magistrate Sylvia Ferguson, while Janet had confirmed that she was working on the prosecution of a man and a woman who had been charged, after a lengthy investigation, with the murder of a well-known, local political figure. Although Janet was limited in what she could yet say about the case, she could reveal that the details, for the most part, as reported in the local newspapers at the time had been surprisingly accurate. The circumstances surrounding the death of the victim had been rather sensational as he had been regarded as an upstanding pillar of the community who left behind a wife and two teenage children. He was, however, found floating face down in his swimming pool wearing a black leather corset, fishnet stockings, a rather large pair of red stilettos and a blonde wig. Coursing through his bloodstream was a shed-load of amphetamines combined with alcohol. First impressions were that the man’s state of  inebriation had led to a fatal drowning accident but a thorough forensic search had brought to light evidence which, of course, Janet wasn’t free to divulge even to Bianca, that indicated foul play had been involved.

In the course of the evening, Bianca had also ventured to ask about the twins as well as Janet’s decision to return to work; each topic edging closer to addressing the elephant that sat glaringly in the room twiddling its thumbs as both women independently decided to ignore it for the moment as they realised any such discussion might bring what had turned out to be a more-than-pleasant evening to an abrupt halt, something neither of them wanted at this particular stage of the night.

As Janet scraped the very last of the coffee tiramisu from her dish – a last-minute treat Bianca had picked up from her favourite deli which was just around the corner in Blues Point Rd - another glass of wine was offered and accepted but with the proviso that it must be her last for the evening as she could feel herself becoming a little tipsy and she needed to be able to drive home.

Several months of not hearing from Janet had resulted in a steady build-up of somewhat mixed emotions for Bianca including worry that mentally Janet wasn’t fairing so well following the attack on herself and her family; guilt that perhaps as a highly-trained police officer she should have put the pieces together sooner and solved the puzzle before the drama played out as far as it did – she had managed to save the lives of the children by possibly only a matter of seconds…. _Had she taken her eye off the ball?_ There was annoyance and confusion as Janet steadfastly refused to respond to any of her attempts at communication. _Did Janet blame her, at least in part, for what had turned out to be a total miscalculation?_ Bianca also had to admit, if only to herself, to being quite heartbroken. Although, at the time, they had only recently acted on their mutual attraction, Bianca had been completely captivated at ‘Hello’ and their first handshake as Janet welcomed her aboard the Royal Commission team. However, knowing that Janet had issues that hadn’t yet been fully-resolved, she had decided that it would be wise to simply let Janet know that she had a friend as well as a protector in her. If a move was to be made, Janet would have to be the one to make it and in her own time but that was okay. As a police officer who often did undercover work, Bianca was a master of the ‘waiting game.’ In the end her patience had paid off.

Then Janet had chosen, it seemed, to disappear from her life leaving both her heart and her pride shot to pieces. When Bianca wasn’t focussed on her work, she was constantly mulling over the unanswered questions that Janet’s absence left hanging. Her heart missed her desperately. Many gruelling sessions at the gym had been fuelled by the frustrations Janet, or rather, the lack of Janet had created in her life.

Up until now, Bianca had thought that it was the answers to these questions which she sought most of all; answers, she felt, that would put her mind at rest one way or the other. However, with Janet here with her now in her house, sharing a meal, affable conversation and a bottle or two of wine, it dawned on her that it wasn’t answers that she needed at all. They were the past and the past couldn’t be undone. What she really craved was a future, a future that had Janet King’s physical presence in it - to have her near, to talk with her and laugh with her; to bathe in her intellect and somehow be responsible for drawing that beguiling smile to her face ….that was what she truly wanted. She doubted that any explanation Janet gave for what had happened after the ‘event’ would change that but, yet again, Bianca recognised the need to proceed slowly and allow Janet to set the pace. If the best she could do for now was a friendship then so be it.

“You’re very lucky,” Janet said thoughtfully as she collected the dessert dishes and carried them to the sink.

Bianca gave her a puzzled look.

“Living here, so close to the harbour,” she explained further.

“Oh. Yeah, it’s a prime location even if finding a  parking space is a constant battle with neighbours…The ‘pros’ far outweigh the ‘cons’ though including a great view from the upstairs balcony…..Come up and I’ll show you.”

Bianca grabbed both glasses of wine and led the way up the narrow set of stairs Janet had seen when she first entered. In the confines of the small landing at the top, Bianca turned and handed Janet the glasses of wine so that her own hands were free. She was suddenly very conscious of Janet’s closeness. They would have to go through her bedroom to reach the balcony. As she opened the door she could feel the heat of a slight blush rising on her cheeks as it occurred to her that Janet might think the whole ‘looking at the view’ idea was merely a pathetic ruse to lure her to the bedroom to try to seduce her. Although the plan wasn’t entirely without merit, it had not been Bianca’s intention.

As she entered the room, Bianca flicked on a light switch then walked around the king-sized bed that oddly enough seemed to loom larger than usual in the room. Her blush deepened as she recalled putting the fresh linen on the bed that afternoon although she hadn’t been sure as to why. _What was she expecting to happen?_   She then pushed back a heavy set of drapes so as to reveal a bank of French doors which led out onto the balcony. Again Bianca led the way, followed closely by Janet who, if she had wondered about Bianca’s motive, said nothing of it and perhaps even if she had been going to say something, the stunning view which greeted her as she stepped out onto the balcony swiftly cast the thought from her mind.

Janet had spent most of her life in and about Sydney and had probably come to take the impressive nature of the place she called home for granted. The view from the balcony highlighted its sheer beauty to her once again.

The Sydney Harbour Bridge stood front and centre as its imposing arch reached across from one side of the harbour to the other like a smooth, steel serpent, its spine outlined by thousands of lights which, tonight, were all the colours of the rainbow. Only partially visible just beyond the bridge were the peaks of the ‘sails’ of the iconic Opera House. To the right was the plethora of highrises that dominated the cityscape, their own light show adding to the spectacle. Above it all, levitated a luminous full moon while a cloudless night sky provided the perfect backdrop.

The two women stood in comfortable silence taking in the scene before them until Janet finally broke the spell with an almost whispered, “Thank you, Bianca.”

Bianca gave her a bemused smile.

“What for exactly?”

“For this.” Janet gestured with a nod of her head and a sweep of her hand towards the view they had been admiring. “Sometimes I’m too busy dealing with the seedier side of life and I forget the beauty that surrounds me.” Janet had fixed Bianca with a steady gaze. “So thank you for reminding me.”

“I’m just trying to impress you, Janet,” Bianca replied with a warm but slightly nervous smile, hoping she hadn’t overstepped the mark.

Janet responded with a smile of her own. “Well, it worked…..as did the fabulous meal and this wonderful wine that you’re plying me with.”

“I’m not plying anyone,” Bianca said defensively, “you can always say ‘no’ and I won’t be offended… All the more for me in that case….I can always make you a herbal tea instead.”

Janet gave a comic eye roll at the very thought. She really wasn’t a tea person.

“And in return for …everything, I guess I owe you a long overdue explanation…”

There it was. The elephant had stopped twiddling its thumbs and stood resolutely to attention between them waiting to be addressed. It was the opening to the conversation that Bianca had wanted to have for months or so she thought.

“Janet, I’ve decided I don’t really need you to explain…I thought I did but I don’t….You did what you had to do and I trust that you had your reasons which really are none of my business. You’re here now and you and the children are okay….that’s all I really need to know….”

It was Janet’s turn to be puzzled. “Are you sure?”

Bianca nodded.

“We can still be friends?”

Bianca’s heart sank ever so slightly at the use of the ‘f’ word….No matter what she told herself, in her heart of hearts she hoped for more than just friendship.

“Of course,” was all she could manage to say safely.

“I don’t mind talking about it….after all, it was the reason for the invitation.”

“I don’t know that it _was_ the true reason….I think, more than anything, I wanted a chance to see you…talk to you….about anything… and know that you are alright….Do you mind?”

“No, I don’t mind….not at all…it was nice to have the chance to see you too….I’ve had a lovely evening….delicious food, wonderful company.” Janet was conscious of a familiar stirring inside of her as she drained the last mouthful of wine and held up the empty glass.  “And, of course, the fabulous wine…..but I shouldn’t outstay my welcome and it’s getting late….I’d best be off.”

With his services no longer required, the elephant harrumphed from the room.

“I hope you’re not thinking of driving home,” Bianca said using her sternest ‘law enforcement’ voice.

“No…no…. Can you imagine the feeding frenzy the press would have if the Senior Prosecutor from the DDP was caught for drink driving? I’ll call a taxi.”

Suddenly desperate for Janet not to leave, Bianca said, “Why don’t you stay….here….please?” She was flying by the seat of her pants now and hoped that Janet wouldn’t be frightened off. “Rhys has gone out for the night and won’t be back until sometime tomorrow so I can use his bed and my sleeping bag and you can sleep here…in  my bed.”

“I don’t want to put you out…..Are you sure?” Janet tried to think of a reason why she shouldn’t stay, although not too hard, and was quite pleased when she couldn’t come up with one.

“It’s fine, Janet, really…You won’t be putting me out…And it would make me sleep better knowing you’re safe.” _When in doubt, appeal to their conscience_ , _she thought._

Before Janet could change her mind, Bianca showed her where the bathroom was located and opened a fresh toothbrush for her as well as showing her the necessary light switches. She also took from her drawer her favourite T-shirt which she gave to Janet to wear. It was an LAPD T-shirt that she’d been given when she did a six month training stint in Los Angeles a couple of years ago. It was too large for normal wear so Bianca had regularly used it to wear to bed. Now it was at that perfect stage for comfort.

With a final reassurance that it was no inconvenience, Bianca left Janet to settle in while she went downstairs to do a quick tidy up. Once the dishwasher was stacked and started and the benches had been wiped down, Bianca returned upstairs where she then dragged her sleeping bag off the shelf at the top of the spare wardrobe in the study and dumped it in Rhys’ room. Just before retiring herself, Bianca went to check that Janet had all she needed.  She knocked lightly on the door and then peeked in. The room was in darkness and there was no response to her ‘Goodnight’ other than the sound of Janet’s regular breathing.

Switching on only the bedside lamp in Rhys’ room rather than the overhead light and trying to ignore the smell of sweaty socks and gym shoes as well as the pile of magazines fronted by naked men, Bianca smoothed out the covers of Rhys’ unmade bed before unrolling her sleeping bag and laying it out on the top. Whether it was from the satisfying lull of the pleasant evening she had spent with Janet and the knowledge that they were once again friends or merely the effects of the wine or possibly both, whatever the reason, Bianca also had very little trouble falling asleep once she had crawled into her sleeping bag so it was with a great deal of confusion that she was rudely awoken less than two hours later by the blaze of  bright light filling the room, a voice saying her name and an insistent hand shaking her shoulder.

As she opened her eyes and things gradually came into some kind of focus, Bianca recognised the figure of Rhys standing over her.

“Oh it’s you,” she yawned as she attempted to sit up. “What are you doing here?”

“This is my room…and my bed,” he replied sarcastically, “the question is what are you doing here?” 

Snuggling back down into the sleeping bag and closing her eyes again, her brain fuzzy with tiredness, she gave a muffled explanation.

“Janet…too much to drink….sleeping in my bed.”

Rhys made a tutting noise with his tongue.

“Bianca, sweetie, why are you not in there with her? ….You’re never going to get laid at this rate.”

Bianca opened her eyes, turned to face him and gave him a fierce glare to which his only response was an innocent, “What?”

She knew if she stayed in his room too much longer she was in for a lecture so instead, she freed herself from the sleeping bag which she then draped over her shoulder and made to leave.

“I’ll sleep on the sofa,” she announced as she headed for the door, Rhys’ renewed tutting echoing in her ears as she left.

On the landing at the top of the stairs outside her bedroom, Bianca hesitated. The sofa was reasonably comfortable but not as comfortable as her bed. Janet would be asleep. She could just lie on the top of the bed in the sleeping bag. Surely, Janet wouldn’t mind once she explained the reason. It hadn’t taken too much more thought for Bianca to convince herself that it would be okay.

She opened the door to her bedroom ever so quietly. With her eyes already adjusted to the darkness, she could make out the sleeping figure of Janet sprawled across the centre of the bed. Bianca crept over and so as not to startle her, whispered her name.

“Janet….Janet….wake up.”

There was no response. Bianca put a hand on Janet’s shoulder and gave it a gentle shake.

“Janet….wake up.”

Finally she could feel Janet begin to stir.

“What’s….what’s wrong?” Janet managed, her words thick with sleep.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Bianca whispered, “except Rhys has come home and needs his bed….I was wondering…..”

Bianca didn’t have to say anymore as Janet understood what she was asking and shuffled over to one side of the bed to make room.

“I can sleep on the sofa if it’s a problem,” Bianca continued, “I’ve got my sleeping bag….”

“Get in,” Janet said in a tone not to be argued with as she threw back the covers for her.

Bianca dropped the sleeping bag on the floor and accepted the offer although, to assure Janet that there would be no impropriety, she made certain that there was ample space between them as she turned on her side and prepared to sleep.

“Night, Janet,” she whispered after a few moments of settling.

There was no reply. Bianca could only assume that Janet had nodded off back to sleep.

Suddenly and quite unexpectedly, she sensed the touch of Janet’s body pressed up against her back and realised that Janet was no longer lying down but was propped up on the pillows beside her nor was she wearing the T-shirt. As Bianca turned towards her to see if everything was alright Janet’s hand lightly caressed her cheek then, to her complete surprise, Janet’s mouth was gently seducing her own. Bianca checked to see if she was dreaming. Nope, she was definitely awake she concluded as Janet’s kiss deepened and she felt the demands of her hot tongue.

As their lips finally parted, Janet said softly, “I hope you don’t mind….I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t….”

Bianca put pay to Janet’s doubts the best way she knew how and that was with a deep, languid kiss of her own in return.

“I don’t mind at all, Janet,” she whispered, her breathing still laboured, “as a matter of fact, it would be wonderful.”

**_A/N: That’s it for this story….for now. A long holiday beckons. I do hope you all enjoyed the story so far and I thank you so much for reading._ **

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Roused from a deep, restful sleep by the sense that something wasn’t quite as it should be, Bianca rolled over to check if Janet too had been woken. It was then that she discovered the source of her subconscious concern.

It hadn’t been until the wee hours of the morning that she and Janet had eventually succumbed to sleep, initially nodding off wrapped in each other’s arms but gradually moving apart during the ensuing hours. Now, however, and much to Bianca’s puzzlement, Janet was no longer in the bed nor, it appeared, was she anywhere else in the room. Instinctively, Bianca ran her hand over the sheets where Janet had lain. They were still warmish so she hadn’t been gone long. _Why would she leave so mysteriously and without saying good-bye? Was this how it was going to be…Janet constantly disappearing in and out of her life on a whim with no obvious rhyme or reason?_ As well as a flood of disappointment, Bianca couldn’t help the sense of annoyance that rose within her. _Well, she wasn’t going to chase after her. Janet would have to make the effort to contact her next time and she had better have a good explanation._

Janet was gone. There was nothing she could do about it. Determined not to succumb to the anxiety and anger that threatened to envelop her and with no other pressing plans, Bianca decided that she might as well make the most of the rare opportunity to have a lie-in. She tossed back onto her side once more, pulled the covers up firmly under her chin and closed her eyes in the hope of finding sleep while attempting not to think about the woman or the night of intimacy they had just spent together…. a futile exercise but she would try nonetheless.

Barely a minute or two had past when Bianca detected a distinct presence by the bed then felt a hand run lightly across her cheek. She didn’t need her eyes to recognize that touch but she opened them anyway to find Janet standing beside her, the over-sized T-shirt Bianca had lent her the night before hanging loosely on her tall, slender frame; its slack neckline slipping lazily off to one side to reveal a finely-sculpted collar-bone and shoulder; her gorgeous, smiling face was framed by a tizz of ruffled, blonde hair. Bianca’s relief was palpable as she fought off the urge to reach up and kiss her within an inch of her life.

“Morning,” Janet said softly but with a definite note of cheeriness to her voice.

“How long have you been up?” Bianca asked, trying to keep the question casual as she moved her arm from under the covers and reached for Janet’s hand, firstly placing a tender kiss or two on the inside of her wrist and then in the warmth of her palm.

“Just long enough to go to the bathroom…. I tried not to wake you…sorry.”

“It’s fine, Janet, you didn’t wake me…” It wasn’t exactly a lie as it had been more the ‘lack of Janet’ that had stirred her. “I’m just glad you’re still here.”

Janet gave her a puzzled look.

“Why wouldn’t I still be here?”

Bianca hesitated, embarrassed now that she had so readily jumped to the conclusion that Janet had scarpered. Her only excuse being that her brain was still emerging from the stupor of sleep.

“When I woke up and saw that you weren’t here I thought…. I thought that you had already left.”

Through her initial confusion, Janet felt a pang of guilt. It was clear that her actions of the last several months had cost her a considerable amount of Bianca’s trust not that she could blame her. It was also clear that more than a night of passionate love-making was needed to earn that trust back.

Bianca shuffled over towards the centre of the bed and threw back the covers.

“Care to join me?” she asked innocently enough, content to simply have Janet close to her.

It was Janet who held less innocent ideas as she looked down at the very naked and very inviting form of a now well-rested Sgt Grieve. Accepting the invitation, Janet moved towards the bed, subtly guiding Bianca onto her back as she did so then, rather than lying beside her, placed a knee either side of Bianca, staking claim of her body as she triumphantly straddled her hips. All the while, her face with it’s slight, insinuating smile and glinting eyes, peered down at that of the captive and captivating woman beneath her.

Quickly realising Janet’s intention, it was all Bianca could do to restrain the wide grin that wanted to spread across her entire face, after all, she couldn’t have Janet King thinking she held all the cards. Instead, she allowed the corners of her mouth to upturn in a mere hint of a smile. Her eyes, however, were filled with daring as she ran both hands slowly down the front of the T-shirt, the worn fabric too thin to disguise the delicious swell of Janet’s breasts and the firmness of their tips as her fingers brushed over them. Bianca’s hands then worked their way underneath the shirt and came to rest on Janet’s hips. Her level of arousal had gone from 0 to 100 in less than 60 seconds.

Janet took up the unspoken challenge in Bianca’s eyes as she grasped the hem of the shirt and peeled it up over her head before tossing it carelessly onto the floor beside the bed. Bianca looked up at her in mock disbelief.

“Are you always such an untidy guest?” she teased.

Deciding she would play along, Janet leaned forward with the stealth of a cat silently hunting its prey, placing a hand either side of Bianca’s shoulders then, still with a sly smile, put her mouth close to Bianca’s ear and said in a gravelly whisper, “Would you like me to put it back on?”

Before Bianca could voice her response, a series of tiny electric shots fired through her as Janet nipped sharply at the sensitive skin along the hollow of her neck and shoulder. Amidst this and the flurry of Janet’s warm breath against her bare flesh, the shirt was soon well forgotten. 

“If you leave any marks….” Bianca’s words were cut short by a sudden, surprised gasp as Janet found that erogenous spot just below her ear lobe.

“You were saying…?” Janet whispered.

“I won’t hesitate to tell anyone who asks that it was you who put them there…” Bianca managed to say, “just so you know.”

Janet laughed as she proceeded to create a line of increasingly hungry kisses that trailed across Bianca’s chest then followed the gentle outline of each breast, placing delicate kisses teasingly close to each nipple but taking care not to touch them…not yet.

As she meted out her euphoric torture, Janet’s eyes looked up to gauge Bianca’s reaction…her head was pressed back hard into her pillow, her eyes shut tight; small, blissful sighs escaped her mouth as each press of Janet’s hot lips, each touch of her tongue, seared a direct path to that point at the top of her thighs where all such tension culminates. Satisfied that she was providing sufficient pleasure, Janet’s focus went back to Bianca’s breasts as she teased her agile tongue firmly across one hard tip and then the other, slowly at first then more fervently as Bianca’s back arched in response, her fingers balled tightly around clumps of the bedding and her hips began to writhe.

Aware of how quickly this activity could bring Bianca to the edge and not wanting to hurry, Janet ceased her ministrations for a moment as she reached up to find Bianca’s mouth instead, catching the bottom lip gently between her teeth before pressing into an ardent kiss. Bianca pressed back, slipping her tongue into Janet’s mouth and sliding her hands into the tousle of blonde hair. Suddenly Janet was very conscious of her own scales rising, preparing to tip.  Reluctantly, she slipped away from the kiss and sat upright again over Bianca’s hips, taking the time to admire the taut body below her before easing one leg around so that they were now in the most intimate of positions, wetness against wetness; one sweet, sensitive bud of highly aroused nerves pressed firmly against the other.

Gradually they set up a rhythm, discordant at first, but quickly matching their timing until they blended as a pair of perfectly harmonised chords to create their own erotic symphony….a symphony that was composed of sharp gasps, drawn-out sighs and breathy cries of ‘Oh god” and one that was rapidly reaching its crescendo until finally their bodies, racked with the exhilarating pleasure of it all, began to spasm wildly as the friction was no longer bearable .

To steady herself through the aftershocks, Janet clung tightly to one of Bianca’s bent legs while resting her forehead on its knee. Bianca, lying on her back peering up at her, didn’t think she’d ever before seen Janet look so vulnerable or so completely beautiful.

 As the shudders subsided, Janet extricated herself from her present position and flopped onto the bed, all with great difficulty as every bone from every limb felt as though it had been replaced with jelly. She sidled up to Bianca, tucking her head into the hollow of her neck and tossing an arm loosely across her hips and a foot across her ankles. They lay there, blanketed together in a contented bliss, as they both attempted to catch their breath.

It was Bianca who stirred first as she propped herself up more fully on her pillow then, still with Janet’s head resting on her shoulder, she brushed back the stray strands of blonde hair that had fallen across the woman’s cheek. With a fingertip, she tilted Janet’s chin upwards so their lips were within reach of a kiss. As she did so, Bianca was surprised to see that those ice-blue eyes of Janet’s were brimming with unshed tears.

“Janet, are you alright?”

Not trusting her voice, Janet nodded and smiled weakly before stretching up that little bit further to press her lips against Bianca’s.

Bianca wasn’t prepared to be so easily distracted.

“What’s wrong?” she asked again, her voice full of apprehension _. Had she inadvertently upset her in some way?_

Janet shut her eyes tightly, determined not to let the tears spill. When she was certain she had a secure rein on her emotions once more, she opened them again and spoke.

“When Ash was k….died….the grief…the heartache…was agonising …months and months of this never-ending pain…”  Bianca instinctively drew Janet closer to her as she continued. “And it seemed that all I had to look forward to every day was more of the same…I don’t think I would’ve coped it if it wasn’t for the twins….however, for them to survive Ash’s death I had to survive so I protected myself the only way I knew how, with this shroud of numbness …something most barristers are well-practised at doing…..” She gave a small, sardonic smile as she thought about how she had once valued her expertise at this…now she detested it. “It worked.... the pain subsided to a dull ache…always there but bearable so I could function but it also left me feeling detached from everything else…. happiness….love….you know…and it’s been with me ever since, more or less…”  Janet paused for a moment. Other than with her trauma councillor, it had been a long time since she had been so frank with someone about herself and she wanted her words to be right. She unconsciously traced small circles with a fingertip on Bianca’s stomach while she gathered her thoughts. “Last night…. this morning…. that numbness that has been a part me for so long….. it feels like it has lifted…disappeared …. Do you know what I mean?”

 She looked up hopefully into Bianca’s face as she asked this. Unlike DPP Chief Prosecutor Janet King, this Janet wasn’t at all confident that her words had gone anywhere near fully conveying what it was she wanted to say to Bianca but she could think of no clearer way to express it right now.   

Bianca nodded, sensing a watery film cover her own eyes as she dipped her hand into Janet’s hair, placed a tender kiss on her forehead and whispered, “It know _exactly_ what you mean.”

In fact, she knew more accurately than Janet could possibly guess as those words had dug up a lode of memories albeit from a very long time ago that Bianca kept hidden in the deepest recesses of her mind. They were memories that carried with them a very similar cache of emotions.

When she was only eight she had lost both of her parents in a tragic car accident. The months that followed had been filled with an indescribable heartache and loneliness, none of which she had the faintest idea how to deal with. Eventually, she too had reached that point where numbness seemed a better option to the ceaseless pain that dogged her every waking minute.  It allowed her to make it through each day without always wanting to hide away in a corner and cry or, on some occasions, lash out at some unsuspecting innocent in an explosion of anger and grief, however, it also dulled her senses to those precious moments of joy and happiness. She had often likened it to existing day to day in a vacuum.

It was to be almost two years before she could honestly say she had experienced any real form of happiness again. Her saviour came in the form of a gangly, curly-haired, freckle-faced ten-year-old girl named Chrissie Williams who chose to wear shorts and t-shirts rather than dresses and who much preferred to be outside and barefoot, climbing trees or riding her bike to being stuck indoors. Chrissie had arrived at the school mid-term. Their teacher at the time had assigned Bianca the task of looking after their new classmate on her first day. It was Bianca’s duty to show Chrissie around the school and be her friend in the playground. As it turned out, this was not such an onerous chore as the two girls had hit it off almost immediately and soon become virtually inseparable. A young Bianca came to adore Chrissie and her wild ways and their bond gradually began to fill the void with fun, laughter and even love, once more. It was something for which she remained eternally grateful. Bianca was a little overwhelmed that now, it seemed, she was doing Janet the same favour.

 Sensing a need to lighten the mood for both their sakes and because she was close to starving, Bianca said, “Somewhere along the way I’ve managed to work up quite an appetite…..Should we rise and shine and do something about breakfast?”

In reply, Janet nuzzled into Bianca’s neck as she ran her hand tauntingly between her breasts letting it come to rest between Bianca’s thighs.

“As much as it saddens me to say this, I cannot go there again….not without food,” Bianca insisted as she clamped her own hand over the top of Janet’s and moved it to more neutral grounds. “Otherwise I may actually pass out from hunger.”

oooOooo

Rather than fuss around in her own kitchen making breakfast, Bianca suggested they walk the short distance to her favourite café which was around the corner in Blue Points Rd. This idea also had the added benefit of avoiding the possible appearance of her boarder, Rhys, who would no doubt have a barrage of embarrassing questions he’d feel the need to ask which was something Bianca preferred not to expose Janet to yet or possibly ever.

Equipped with wallets, phones and sunglasses, Bianca locked the door behind them and lead the way along the front path and through the low, garden gate. As they turned out onto the footpath towards the café, Janet’s hand reached out for Bianca’s and their fingers entwined, bringing a small but happy smile to each face. It was a feeling strangely reminiscent of the days of being a ridiculous, love-struck teenager but then, why should the exhilaration of new love be the exclusive territory of the young when it is something we search for and need throughout our entire lives; something we can discover at any age for, fortunately, there is no use-by date stamped on our hearts.

Bianca was hopeful that the café wouldn’t be too crowded although it was generally busy at any given time of day but especially on weekends. As they rounded the corner into Blue Points Rd, her hopes were dashed as a long line of customers waiting for a table snaked out of the doorway and along the footpath. Refusing to be disheartened, they settled for coffees and pastries ‘to go’ and strolled down towards the harbour instead.

Sydney was truly showing off on this glorious Summer morning. The colours surrounding them in the park, on the harbour, in the cityscape on the opposite shores all appeared to pop out at them with an added vibrancy and clarity. The temperature, although set to climb into the low to mid-thirties later in the day, was still pleasant and further tempered by a light breeze that rippled the surface of the water and kept things comfortable. A brilliant blue sky hung overhead with just the occasional wisp of cloud drifting by. Storms had been predicted for the late afternoon but for now, all was calm.

Once they reached the park that hedged the shore of McMahon’s Point, Janet and Bianca walked a wide arc around the areas where several families had gathered to picnic and play games, preferring somewhere more peaceful, finally settling themselves on a bench that was shaded but also gave them a picturesque view of the harbour. Their only company was a lone fisherman who was trying his luck off the nearby rock wall.

For the first few minutes they ate in a comfortable quiet. Bianca’s pose was relaxed with her legs stretched out in front of her and crossed at the ankles; Janet sat more upright, one leg crossed over the other, both women savouring the sweetness of the flaky pastries they’d bought - a deviation from the usual, more healthy breakfast fare but it seemed that today was to be a day of little extravagances and luxuries.

“How are Emma and Liam doing?” Bianca asked casually as she finished the last mouthful of her apple Danish and scrunched the paper bag into a tight ball ready for the bin.

Janet took a swig of her coffee as she thought about her answer.

“They’re fine now, I think…..They were both having nightmares for a while there after….after what happened….but those seemed to have stopped now, touch wood….so, yeah, they’re doing well.”

“Did you say they were with your mother for the weekend?”

Janet nodded. “I’ll pick them up tomorrow afternoon.”

“I thought your mother lived in Adelaide…..sorry….I sound like I’m interrogating you…hazard of the job…sorry.”

“It’s fine,”  Janet laughed. “She did… does…live in Adelaide but after the whole ‘Peta Vickers’ thing she offered to come up and help out. She stayed with the kids and me for a couple of weeks but then we started getting on each other’s nerves….we’re too much alike in some ways which is kind of frightening…. so I’ve rented her an apartment about 20 minutes away which works to both our benefits.”

After a thoughtful silence where they both simply sipped their coffees and soaked up the pleasure of the day, Bianca ventured to ask, “And how are you doing after the ‘Peta Vickers’ thing?”

Janet peered out over the harbour, ostensibly following the progress of a small catamaran as it took advantage of the increased breeze to zip across the water until it eventually disappeared from her view. She then turned her attention to the nearby fisherman who sat in his fold-out chair, apparently unconcerned that so far there hadn’t been anything to indicate so much as a nibble on the fishing rod which was propped up in a stand beside him.

It was just as Bianca decided that Janet either didn’t hear her question or didn’t want to answer it and was about to go on to another subject, that she finally found her voice.

“I’m sorry I didn’t phone you or answer your messages after what happened….”

“Janet, I meant it when I said you don’t have to explain…all I need to know is if you’re coping with everything that happened.”

“No…if this is going to be a ‘thing’…you and I…us…I think I need to explain,” Janet said with conviction, “and you need to know….you need to understand why I didn’t answer your calls… or speak to you.”

“Okay,” Bianca conceded compliantly as she tried not to show her surprise…pleasant surprise… at Janet so readily pronouncing that they were ‘a thing’.

Janet hesitated as she considered where to begin.

“For a while I thought I _was_ coping but then it crept up on me….this incredible sadness….every day was  like having this out-of-body experience where I would see myself going through the regular motions of the day as if everything was normal…putting on a brave face, I guess, for the sake of Liam and Emma…and my mother….weakness was never tolerated in our household…but then, when the kids were in bed and I was alone it felt as though I would re-enter my body and it had been thrown into this maze of loneliness…. and guilt….a place of darkness…and I couldn’t find my way out….it wasn’t a good place and I was lost.”

Although her own experience had been long ago, Janet’s words resonated through Bianca’s entire being with alarming familiarity. She knew that there was nothing she could say or do to make any of it better other than to listen which she did intently, at the same time putting a reassuring arm around Janet’s shoulders. She needed to let Janet know that she was there with her.

“I thought that knowing who Ash’s killer was and seeing them brought to justice would bring me some sort of closure but instead, it only served to re-open the wound….the guilt of knowing for certain that the bullet was meant for me and that I should be the one who’s dead, not Ash…that’s a tough thing to live with…..For a long time the kids were my only reason for getting out of bed in the morning…so I was in no fit state to talk to anyone….any kind words, no matter their intention, would have torn me apart…..Is any of this making sense?”

“Perfect sense,” Bianca answered, her voice almost a whisper. “I thought that perhaps you were angry with me for jumping to conclusions….for suggesting it was Heather…without looking at all the other possibilities….I felt like I took my eye off the ball…and she came so close…”

“No…no…not at all,” Janet interjected. “That didn’t even occur to me, to be honest.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive…. Anyway, I feel like I might have made my peace with it all now,” Janet said more brightly as she turned to catch Bianca’s gaze, “and things appear to be looking up.”

They sat a while longer absently finishing their coffees and observing the hive of activity that was Sydney Harbour with its Manly ferries packed with beach goers chugging out around the headland, jet skis and boats skimming across the deep green water and the thousands of vehicles that formed the constant stream of traffic that flowed across the bridge.

Eventually Bianca stood and offered her hand to Janet to help her up.

“I think we need to walk,” she said, then as Janet joined her side, she added secretively, “and I need to kiss you.”

Much to Bianca’s astonishment, Janet leaned forward and kissed her there and then.

“Will that keep you going until we get back?” Janet asked, a mischievous grin lifting the corners of her mouth.

Bianca felt herself blush like a schoolgirl which only served to make her blush even more.

oooOoo

 

They had barely reached the confines of the house and closed the door behind them when Bianca encircled Janet in her arms and drew her close so they could finish what Janet had started down at the park as their mouths met in an urgent and fervent kiss.

It was as Bianca was thinking they should take it upstairs that she felt that familiar vibration of her phone in the back pocket of her jeans followed by its ring tone, loud and unavoidable. For a split second she considered ignoring it but, knowing it could quite possibly be an emergency, her conscience got the better of her. She reached into her pocket, retrieved the phone and looked at the screen. The name was that of one of her officers.

“Shit,“ she muttered as she knew this could only mean a disruption to her weekend and her more pleasurable plans. “Sorry, Janet, I’m going to have to take this.”

To give Bianca some privacy while she answered her call, Janet wandered into the living room where her eye was caught once again by the large painting that hung on the wall over the fireplace. Although it was abstract in style, Janet could see quite clearly that it was of two naked women lying together, their arms and legs intertwined….lovers most likely.  It was painted in oils and its colours were bold reds, blues and yellows. Janet looked at the signature of the artist on the bottom corner. ‘C. Williams’.  It wasn’t a name she recognised.

“Sorry about that….” Bianca said as she entered the living room, “I….”

“Is that you in the painting?” Janet asked, pointing to the woman on the left.

Bianca studied the painting for a minute or two before replying a little self-consciously, “Mmm…yeah.”

“Who’s the other woman in the painting with you?”

“Ahh….that’s the artist, Christine ‘Chrissie’ Williams.”

“Friend? Lover?”

“Both at varying times….um…Janet, I have to go. That call was work…”

“Oh. Right….What’s happened?” Janet asked as she continued to study the painting. She knew, of course, that Bianca would have had other lovers but she’d never really given it any thought.

“They’ve found a body….I have to go check it out.”

“Why the AFP?”

“Unofficially, it looks like it could be our drug man, Michael Collins….Sorry about this…”

“It’s fine…I understand…duty calls.”

“You can stay here if you want, although I have no idea how long I’ll be….it could be hours.” Suddenly Bianca was anxious about Janet leaving. She knew she was being ridiculous but that made no difference.

“No…no…I probably need to go home and freshen up anyway… change my clothes…..I just need to get my bag. It’s in the bedroom.”

“Wait here. I’ll get it.” Before Janet could argue, Bianca was headed for the stairs.

The phone call had jolted Janet back to reality. She’d been in somewhat of a ‘happy bubble’ the past 24 hours but the truth was that Bianca was a cop and as such she faced danger and potential death on a regular basis. As Janet waited she couldn’t help but wonder if she was leaving herself open to yet more heartache and pain by having this relationship. She doubted she would survive the loss of another partner. Maybe it would be for the best if she nipped this in the bud now before she fell too hard but then she suspected that it was already too late for that.

“Here you go,” Bianca said as she returned and presented Janet with her handbag. “What have you got in here? It weighs a ton.”

“Oh, you know….stuff,” Janet answered coyly as she took the bag and rifled through it until she found her car keys.

Bianca walked Janet to the front door where they couldn’t help but fall into one final lengthy kiss then, as she reluctantly turned to leave, Janet said, “Text me when you’re finished, if you want.”

“Only if you promise to answer.”

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?” Janet sighed.

 “Oh, you might one day if you hang around long enough….you never know your luck,” was Bianca’s reply along with an enigmatic smile.

Although, strictly speaking, she should have been hurrying off to the crime scene, Bianca waited at the door and watched as Janet walked to her car. By all accounts, the victim was dead…he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He could wait a little longer. It wasn’t until she saw Janet drive off with a final wave that Bianca closed the door and picked up the pace.

oooOooo

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

Bianca drove towards a disused warehouse that was part of an industrial estate on the outskirts of Bankstown where a plethora of large, meccano-like metal sheds, each one much the same as the next, created a border for the urban sprawl. As she drove she found herself humming along to a random tune that was playing in her head. She wasn’t normally this cheerful driving to the scene of a possible homicide but the events of the last two days had put her in high spirits. However, as she pulled her unmarked police car into a parking space outside the building, the all too familiar sight of the blue and white-checked tape used to signify a crime scene rapidly pulled her down from her love-lined cloud.

From Monday to Friday the area swarms with trucks which stream single-mindedly like termites, into the streets of the industrial estate, systematically picking up or delivering their freight, before streaming out again to various locations all over the country. Come the weekend, however, all this activity ceases leaving, in contrast, an eerie stillness about the place which generally remains undisturbed for the weekend therefore the police presence in the area on this particular Saturday morning had soon drawn a sizeable crowd of onlookers, all curious as to what morbid scenario had played out in their own backyard. They were currently being kept at a safe distance by members of the local constabulary.

In addition to the several police vehicles parked on the verge, located closest to the crime scene was the utility van that held all the specialised equipment of the forensic investigation team.  Inside the warehouse, the team itself had already begun the tedious but crucial task of going over every square centimetre of the place with a fine-toothed comb, photographing, bagging and tagging all possible evidence for analysis. It would then be the job of the investigation team to piece together these clues and determine what might have taken place in the previous hours and who was responsible.

After retrieving her protective clothing kit from the boot of her car and donning the coveralls and booties while storing a couple of pairs of gloves in her pocket, Bianca made her way towards the open entry of the warehouse, instinctively taking mental notes of the surrounds as she went. Inside the gate, she was promptly met by a member of the NSW Police Force for whom she automatically produced her identification badge. The officer peeled off the latex gloves he was wearing and offered his hand to Bianca as he introduced himself to her as Senior Constable David Leaney, the first officer attending the scene. In turn, Bianca introduced herself as she shook his hand and then, getting straight down to business, asked him to bring her up to speed on what he knew so far.

Rightly or wrongly, a level of not-quite-friendly rivalry has always existed between the State Police Force and the AFP, the State Force believing it was considered the less-experienced adolescent sibling of the more senior law enforcement body so it was that Senior Constable Leaney, determined to leave his AFP counterpart in no doubt as to his competency, proceeded to give Bianca a detailed description of all the procedures he had overseen up to this point and what had been discovered as well as throwing in one or two of his own theories as to what may have occurred. Bianca listened intently to all Leaney had to say.

“Has anyone spoken to the boys who found the body yet? Did they touch anything?” she asked as she processed the information so far.

“Senior Constable Crane has informally interviewed the three kids…three teenagers…who found the body. We’ve collected their clothing and shoes and we’re in the process of contacting parents so that we can interview them more formally.  Apparently, they had been out riding their bikes in the area when, at approximately 10am, one of them noticed that the gate to the fence around the warehouse had been left unlocked….well, if that isn’t an open invitation, I don’t know what is … Bored and looking for something to do, they decided to go into the compound where they found that the large roller door to the warehouse hadn’t been completely lowered. The two smaller boys had managed to squeeze under the door while the third, too f…large… to fit and rather jumpy about the whole idea anyway, stayed and acted as lookout.”

“How long were they in there?” Bianca asked, “long enough to disturb the scene?”

 “The two boys had only been inside a couple of minutes their mate reckons, before they came scurrying out. Scared shitless, they began blathering to their friend about a dead body inside. It was this boy who convinced them that their best move was to give us a call. The other two were all for buggering off. They swear they didn’t touch a thing….they saw the body lying there…. stopped long enough to take a photo on their phone, of course, and then the little blighters scampered back under the door.”

“Have we stored the photo and deleted it from their phone?” Bianca asked to show she was still paying attention.

“Yep…..we managed to get to it before they posted it on the internet, or so they’re telling us…. which was a miracle in itself…usually, it’s the first thing they do nowadays and by the time we get to it, it’s gone viral.”

“They’d better not be lying,” Bianca threatened. Her mind was ticking over rapidly now as various pieces of the puzzle were laid out on the table. “What time did the call come in?”

“Their call came in at 10:35am from one of the boy’s….” Leaney stopped a moment to refer back to his notebook, “Ah... James…James Lawson’s mobile phone. As the officer on duty at the time, I answered it and after writing down names and some details I alerted a mobile squad in the area to secure the site and make sure the scene wasn’t interfered with any further as well as requesting that they detain the three teenagers so potential evidence can be collected and witness statements can be taken from them….” Leaney looked up from his notebook to see if Bianca had any more questions so far. With none arising, he continued. “I put a call through for a forensic team to meet us here and as you can see, they’re on the job as we speak.”

“It sounds like you have everything under control…What inspired you contact me?” Bianca asked matter-of-factly, trying not to think of Janet and what she might otherwise be doing.

“When my partner, Senior Constable Crane, and I arrived on the scene we checked out the body and although it’s copped a severe beating, I recognised a tattoo on the back of the victim’s left hand….a spider in a web….”

“Michael Collins...” Bianca muttered almost to herself. 

“The face is virtually unidentifiable due to injuries but he’s the right height and build…and, of course, there’s the tattoo….I knew he was your catch so I called one of your team members, Senior Constable Anderson ….had his number in my phone….I’m guessing he was the one who called you.”

“Yes. Thanks," she replied absently.

Now that they had reached the boundary set by the crime scene tape Bianca had all but dismissed the presence of SC Leaney for the moment as her mind focussed on the scene before her, trying to take in as much detail as possible.

Leaney lifted the tape for Bianca so she could duck underneath it then he followed behind but before they had taken even half a dozen steps towards where the body was said to be, they were met by the head of the forensic team.

 “Bianca!... Hi! .... How are you?” The woman’s voice was full of genuine surprise and pleasure as she greeted Bianca with a smile as wide and warm as a mother’s open arms. As she approached, her eyes gave Bianca a less-than-surreptitious once over. Although the protective clothing tended to deem everyone rather nondescript, she barely disguised the fact that she appreciated what she saw.

As the woman was concealed from head to toe in her protective gear, the uniform of the forensic investigator, Bianca didn’t immediately recognise her and was confused by the tone of familiarity but when the penny did finally drop she was instantly taken aback. It was the jovial voice, always a laugh just below the surface it seemed, and the smile that had given it away. The woman was Dr Christine ‘Chrissie’ Williams, Bianca’s some time friend and one time lover.

Attempting to quickly recover from her initial shock at this unexpected meeting with Chrissie and daring to hope that her confusion had gone unnoticed, Bianca gave her a warm smile of her own in return as she replied, “Chrissie! It’s good to see you. I’m good….great. You?”

“All the better for seeing you, Senior Constable Grieve.”

“Sergeant….Sergeant Grieve,” Bianca corrected her coyly.

“Oh… a Sergeant now….well, paint me impressed,” the woman replied with a playful wink of her eye.

Bianca felt herself blush at the compliment and Chrissie’s somewhat flirtatious manner. She and the now Dr Christine Williams had first met at primary school…. Chrissie was the ‘new girl’ in the class and Bianca had been instructed to look after her. In reality, it was Chrissie who had eventually done the looking after as she had taken Bianca under her wing and cared for her during that difficult period not long after her parents had died. She had shown Bianca what it was to be happy and full of life once again. Chrissie was Bianca’s special gift, her first love…. the one you never forget, the one that fills your heart to bursting with that myriad of new and exciting emotions which being in love for the first time brings, the one you set your standards by for ever after and inevitably the one who teaches you your first lesson about the heartache of leaving that love behind.

Despite being sent to different high schools… Bianca had attended the local public high school while Chrissie was shipped off to a private boarding school for girls in a futile effort to try and tame her… they had held on tenaciously to their friendship through letters, phone calls and spending every possible minute together during school vacations.

After high school, Chrissie had made easy passage into university with outstanding marks in maths and science as well as a natural proficiency in art. Meanwhile Bianca had found employment in a variety of unremarkable jobs as she whiled away the time until she was old enough to join the police force, the only job she had ever wanted to do. It was during these years that they had dared to take their friendship that step further.

Like most relationships, theirs had had its ups and downs but for the most part it had been generous and loving. It was their career paths that eventually tore them apart. While Bianca had graduated from the Goulburn Police College and was enjoying being on the job, Chrissie had a burning desire to go overseas and further her studies. Even though they had both remained committed to the relationship while apart and they had worked hard to maintain it by once again writing copious letters and making regular long-distance phone calls all declaring their love,  it had not stood the test of time nor the tyranny of distance the second-time round. When Chrissie returned from overseas, it was obvious that they had become different people and were in different places in their lives. Shortly afterwards they had called it quits. For Bianca, the heartache had been deep and prolonged but eventually they were able to fall back into the role of being friends again albeit quite a different version of friendship to the one they’d had before.

They had had spasmodic contact over the ensuing period but it was probably three years since they had last seen each other Bianca calculated and, even though she knew Chrissie worked in the field of forensic science, she had not been aware that she had a job in the investigative side of it or that there was a chance that their paths may cross at some time at a crime scene.

“It’s been forever since I’ve seen you. We should catch up for a drink after we finish up here,” Chrissie suggested, “we’ll probably need one by then if this heat keeps up.”

“Sure,” Bianca replied. She would make up an excuse later if necessary although Chrissie was probably right, they would most likely be hanging out for a cold drink by the end of what promised to be a long, hot, tedious day. One drink together couldn’t hurt and it would be good to catch up with her friend. As well as being rather attractive, the woman was intelligent and funny. She always had interesting anecdotes to tell and could spin a yarn like no one else Bianca knew. Any time they spent together usually ended up in an uproar of hilarity.

Prompted by the mention of the heat as well as a desire to move the attention away from the more personal, Bianca looked off towards the horizon where heavy, bruised clouds were beginning to pile up, a certain sign of a late afternoon or evening thunderstorm. As predicted, the day’s temperature had risen into the mid-thirties and was hovering there relentlessly. Beneath her coveralls, Bianca could feel the beads of perspiration trickling down her back.

“Has your team been over the grounds outside the warehouse?” Bianca asked, “we don’t want to lose anything significant with the rain.”

“First thing we did,” Dr Williams replied, all business-like now, “but I’ll send a couple of the team out to go over it a again so we don’t miss anything. It always pays to be meticulous.”

Bianca nodded her head in appreciation then asked, “Is it okay if we take a look at the body?”

The forensic examiner responded by reminding them to pull on their head covers and gloves then ushered them inside the building where expert photographers were busy capturing the scene in minute digital detail, both stills and on video. Dr Williams lead the way along a specified path towards the victim, pointing out on the ground a short distance away a crowbar marked with rusty-red streaks which was typically dried blood and what was possibly small pieces of torn flesh.

“Most likely the weapon of choice,” she commented although her tone was circumspect.

Despite having seen more than her fair share of corpses, as Bianca stood over the victim, stripped of all its life and dignity, his body having reverted back to the foetal position, she couldn’t help but be appalled at how a life could be taken with such obvious and callous indifference and then left to rot like so much worthless garbage. Even though she had been in the presence of quite a number of violent criminals, she had never been able to fully fathom exactly what made a person so cold-blooded, so heartless, as to be completely unmoved by the pain and suffering they were inflicting on another human being. There had to be something vital missing from their psyche.

Bianca bent down to take a closer look at the tattoo on the left hand. Even though the hand was battered and bloodied with what could be interpreted as defensive wounds, Bianca was able to make out a poorly inked spider’s web with what was intended to be a small, redback spider in its centre.

“Definitely looks like it could be our bloke,” Bianca said as she looked up at Leaney who was still shadowing her, “but with these injuries we won’t know for sure until the DNA results come through.”

oooOooo

With the water level and temperature just right, Janet reached over and turned off the taps.

She’d arrived home not long after midday to an empty house…no children…no mother…no Tony…no one at all except herself. Being alone in the house like this was such a rarity that she hardly knew what to do. The twins were spending the weekend with her mother and Janet wasn’t due to pick them up until the next day. She had considered showering and then driving over to join them for the afternoon but when her mother didn’t answer her text message she remembered that they intended going to the movies, no doubt her mother’s clever scheme to escape the stifling, midday heat by holing up in the air-conditioned comfort of a cinema.

Janet knew that she should make good use of this opportunity to have some personal time but it was at such odds with what she was used to that she felt a little lost. When she was alone was also the time she was most vulnerable to her darker thoughts although she knew that she was better at dealing with them these days therefore the prospect didn’t unnerve her as much.

With nowhere to be and no hurry to be there, Janet had decided that rather than take her usual economical shower, she would indulge herself in the luxury of a soak in the tub. It was something she and Ash had done on occasion as a special treat. She remembered it fondly and as a very cathartic exercise. Of course, that was before the twins had been born. Once Liam and Emma arrived, the luxury of that much time free to themselves was the stuff of dreams.

The water was at the perfect temperature…cool without being a total shock to the system on this steamy, hot day… and the level….a few centimetres from the brim…was just right.  A well-earned tiredness in her muscles from the night before (the thought of which brought a smile to her face) prompted her to toss in some bath salts at the last minute. Janet then stripped off and stepped into the tub, easing all but her head below the water’s surface. She lay back and stretched out almost to her full length, welcoming the cooling effect of the water on her hot skin.

As she lay there, she focussed on emptying her mind of all thought which wasn’t an easy state for her to reach or maintain for a prolonged period of time. Inevitably, the moment she stopped concentrating, her brain would venture off on tangents best left undisturbed or conjure up some problem that needed solving.

The last day or so with Bianca had been wonderful but they had also been emotionally draining for Janet. She’d had to wear her heart on her sleeve for much of it which was something she was naturally reluctant to do, having been brought up in surrounds where to show cracks in your armour was to risk any weakness being taken advantage of. You kept your emotions on a tight rein. This skill had served her well in her job but had often hindered her personal relationships over the years. However, Bianca’s warm-heartedness and easy-going manner had made revealing her feelings considerably easier. Janet felt safe and protected and, once she’d started, the words had simply poured out of her.  She held an innate sense of trust in Bianca and had therefore allowed her into her personal realm where she saw the chance of happiness and even love again. She also knew she’d left the door open once more to the possibility of heartache and loss. Unfortunately, as she was well aware, it was impossible to receive the gift of love without running the risk of such pain. As Janet lay in the tub, her mind pondered the same question yet again…Was she ready to face that risk?

As she pondered, she ran a fingertip thoughtfully over a small, deliberate ‘bruise’ Bianca’s mouth had left just below her hip bone. She had to be honest with herself. It was possible to question the wisdom of being in a relationship with Bianca while she was here alone but, in reality, once she was in the woman’s presence she knew that she was as capable of being without her as she was of flying to the moon. Her feelings for Bianca became deeper with every smile…touch…kiss that they shared. She would just have to learn to live with the fact that some things were beyond her control and her feelings for Bianca was one of those things.

Ten minutes of ‘relaxing’ in the tub was about all Janet could deal with before she found herself becoming restless. She should have brought in some music, she thought. She and Ash would easily while away an hour or so lying in the tub together talking, laughing, listening to music, making love. Lying in a bath on your own, Janet discovered, was nowhere near as much fun.

 Doing nothing made her anxious. It felt like she was wasting an opportunity to achieve something, no matter how small. She was far more at ease when she was occupied.

Bored with this idleness, Janet stepped out of the bath and casually dried herself off. She then wrapped the towel around her torso and headed for the bedroom where she slipped on a T-shirt and a well-worn pair of shorts; in this heat, underwear was a non-essential, especially if you were spending the afternoon on your own…you just had to hope that no one would drop in unexpectedly.

Once she was dressed, Janet searched out her phone and checked if any messages had been left. There were none. She knew from experience that it was too early to expect Bianca to be finished at a crime scene but she was being hopeful.

Time would drag out endlessly if she sat around and waited. There was nothing else for it but to go and find some chores to do. She was even fully-prepared to do some cleaning if absolutely necessary. However, with the children having been away all weekend, the house was very much as her cleaner left it on a Thursday afternoon – everything in its place, everything spotless. Janet couldn’t honestly say she was disappointed for although she liked her house neat and tidy…an uphill battle most days with the twins around…cleaning was not her favourite pastime. Determined to find a job to do, she checked the laundry. It was obvious her mother had already been through as the washing had recently been done and folded and there were very few clothes in the laundry basket. Nothing required here either.

With no chores to keep her busy, Janet wandered into the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee, checking her phone twice as she waited for the water to boil. Not a word from her mother nor from Bianca. Janet took her coffee into the living room and settled on the sofa. She’d decided to distract herself by watching some television.

After finally locating the remote control down between the cushions, she turned on the TV. Maybe she ‘d catch up on some Dr Blake so she and her mother would have an alternate topic of conversation other than the twins and the state of Janet’s health.

Less than half way into the episode, Janet’s thoughts began to wander, set adrift by the show’s plot where a wealthy businessman appeared to have accidentally drowned in a river but had, in fact, been murdered. It started Janet thinking about her most recent case of the local councillor who had supposedly drowned in his swimming pool but forensic evidence had shown it to be a clumsy attempt to disguise a murder. Although she was in the process of prosecuting the two people who police had investigated and subsequently found enough evidence to have them charged with the murder, Janet had had a nagging feeling ever since the case had begun that there was something wrong somewhere…. that some vital piece of evidence or information had been overlooked…. but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It niggled at her brain like that itch that is just out of reach and can’t be scratched.

By the time Janet had brought her thoughts back to the TV show the credits were scrolling up the screen and she was left guessing as to what wondrous techniques and logic Dr Blake had used to solve the crime on this particular occasion.

Frustrated by having nothing constructive to do and with being left alone with her thoughts, Janet turned off the television, tossed the remote to the far end of the sofa most likely to disappear beneath the cushions again, and made a bee line for her bedroom where she proceeded to change her clothes. She’d decided she’d had enough relaxing for one day. She would go into her office and spend a couple of hours sifting through her case files again. Maybe, with some luck, she’d find the cause of her unease, then perhaps she’d arrange to pick up the twins from her mother’s place on the way home if Bianca didn’t contact her in the meantime.

As she walked out of the door, Janet checked her phone one more time. Nothing. Maybe Bianca wouldn’t call today after all. Slightly disheartened, she dropped the phone into her bag and made her way to the car, noticing as she did so, the steaminess of the air that enveloped her and the dark, brooding skyline off in the distance. There was no doubt that they were in for a typical summer storm later that day.

oooOooo

To enter the Department of Public Prosecutions building, Janet swiped her keycard across the scanner, pressed her security code into the keypad and listened for the magic click signalling that the glass doors that formed the entry were momentarily unlocked. Hearing it, she pushed them open and entered, marching directly to the lifts. Being a Saturday afternoon, the building was quite deserted which meant there was no waiting. The doors immediately opened as the button was pressed. Janet stepped in, only to step out again on the third floor a few seconds later where she headed down the hallway, past the maze of work cubicles, towards her office.

She’d only been in her office long enough to discard her bag and turn on her computer when she sensed that she was not alone. She looked through the glass that encased her room and out into the general work area to see who else was there.

Catching sight of the figure walking past, Janet called out, “Lina!”

The unexpected voice had surprised the life out of the heavily-pregnant woman. In her fright, the cup of water she held catapulted from her hand, spilling its contents down the front of her dress as it did so.

Realising what she’d done, Janet dashed out to check that the woman was alright, apologising profusely when she reached her.

“I’m so sorry, Lina…..I didn’t mean to startle you…..I just wanted to catch your attention…to let you know I was here too….Sorry….Are you okay?”

Lina seldom saw her boss this remorseful and was quietly amused by it, even though Janet had caused her heart rate to almost double.

“Apart from having ten years taken off my life from fright, I’m fine,” Lina replied amicably, “what are you doing here on a Saturday anyway?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Janet said as she reached for a chair and drew it towards Lina. “Here, sit down and I’ll get you another cup of water.”

Janet was back in charge and Lina did as she was instructed although she was rather enjoying the unique experience of being fussed over by Janet King.

Janet returned from the kitchen with a fresh glass of water and a hand towel. She’d been about to pat down the wet areas on Lina’s dress when she realised it wasn’t one of her twins she was attending to but a grown woman so she handed the towel over with an embarrassed smile. Lina would understand soon enough.

“So, tell me why are you here?” Janet asked once again.

Lina took sip of her water as she wriggled into a more comfortable position in her chair, although at eight months pregnant, ‘comfortable’ was a rather ambitious term.

“Andy was called out on a job early this morning…. An armed robbery somewhere in the city, I think…. I knew he would be gone most of the day dealing with it….I was bored in the house by myself so I came in to finish off a few files that needed attention. I go on maternity leave as of Friday, so I thought I’d tie up as many loose ends as I could…..You?”

“What? …. Oh. Much the same really….The kids are with my mum and that case….you know the one….Lance Bradshaw, the local councillor found dead in his swimming pool….”

As Janet looked over at Lina to see if she knew the case she was referring to, she noticed a grimace on her face.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Janet asked, her voice full of concern.

“Yeah…just some indigestion from the lunch I had, I think….I haven’t been able to eat anything these days without some kickback.” Lina rubbed her hand over her distended belly.

“Maybe we should take you to the doctor’s.”

“No….Really, Janet, I’m fine…..What were you saying about that case?”

Not fully convinced that Lina was being straight with her but willing to let it go, Janet picked up the conversation where she’d left off. “I know we looked at all the evidence and said it was ready to go to court but there’s something about that case that doesn’t feel quite right but, at the moment, I’ve no clue as to what it is. I thought I’d come in and go over the files again to see if I could work it out or at least put my mind at some sort of rest.”

“Do you want me to help?”

Janet considered the offer for a moment. Going through all the evidence would be a huge task but in the end she replied, “Thanks for the offer but no…. I’ll let you get on with what you need to do…. this is something I have to look at myself, I think.”

With a final reassurance from Lina that she was fine, Janet turned and headed for her office to begin the search.

oooOooo

It was only mid-afternoon but there was a noticeable lessening of sunlight over the city as well as in the room where Janet had been poring over files and evidence photos for the last hour and a half, so much so in fact, that it was enough to drag Janet’s attention from her work and have her check the time. According to the clock on the bottom corner of her computer screen, it was only half past three whereas the level of darkness would have indicated a much later hour. Nevertheless, having stopped now, Janet decided to take a break. She pushed back her chair, rose and wandered over to her office window which looked out across the city. As she peered out between the slats in the blinds she could see mountainous clouds, the colour of cold lead, steadily rolling in, blocking out the sun as they approached. If she wanted to beat the storm home she’d need to leave very soon. There were only one or two things left to check…she’d take the files home with her to read later. She went back to her desk and began packing up, putting the folders she wanted to take home in a separate pile and tossing the flashdrive which held further information and images she wished to inspect more closely into her bag.

It was as Janet was shutting down her computer and checking her phone for messages…there were none….that she thought she heard someone calling her name. She went to the door and listened more carefully. There it was again, faint but distressed.

“Lina?” Janet called out as she moved hurriedly out into the general work area. “Is that you, Lina? Where are you?”

Janet waited for a reply. There was nothing for the longest minute then she heard it again.

“Janet…. I’m in here,” the voice cried out.

Janet dashed towards the voice. It sounded like it was coming from the direction of the bathrooms. She entered the Ladies to find her young co-worker standing astride in a pool of pink-tinged, amniotic fluid, one hand clasping the edge of the wash bench for support while the other arm was wrapped tightly around her belly. Confusion and alarm were written on her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“It’s too soon,” Lina cried, her voice choked with panic. “The baby’s coming now but it’s too soon…”

Janet took a deep breath in order to clear her thoughts then reached a reassuring arm across Lina’s shoulders.

“Have there been any contractions?” Janet kept her voice as calm as she could.

On cue, Lina bent forward and let out a groan through gritted teeth.

“Is that the first one?” Janet asked, noting the time. 3:50pm.

Lina shook her head. “If you count the one when you got me the glass of water….it’s the third….I thought it was indigestion…”

“How far apart?”

“About 25…30 minutes, I guess.”

“Okay…I don’t think there’s cause for panic yet but we do need to get you to the hospital….It’s probably quicker if I drive you myself rather than wait for an ambulance to arrive and then take you back….the hospital’s only a five minute drive away, in theory…..Can you make it to the car?”

Lina nodded as she clamped a hand onto Janet’s forearm.

Moving her arm from Lina’s shoulders to around her waist, Janet guided her back into the office where they stopped momentarily to collect handbags and locate car keys.

“We need to call Andy,” Lina said in a strained voice.

“Let’s get you to the car first then we can call him once we’re on our way.”

They then made their way to the lift and eventually to Janet’s car where Janet helped secure Lina into the passenger seat before reversing out of her parking spot and hurriedly exiting the carpark.

Janet used all her restraint not to speed or run a red light as they wound their way through the city streets towards the hospital. Meanwhile Lina tried several times to call Andy but on each occasion was directed to his voice mail where she eventually left a message. She also sent him a text alerting him to his impending fatherhood.

“You should call the hospital too….let them know we’re coming,” Janet said as they pulled up at their second red light in a row.

While they sat waiting for the light to turn green, Lina made her call to the hospital. Janet checked her own phone for messages. Nothing.

Once they were on the move again, Janet asked, “How do you cope….being married to a police officer?”

Lina turned and gave Janet a quizzical look as if to say _“Where did that come from?”_

Reading it, Janet added, “I’m just curious…that’s all….it must be a bit unnerving at times with the dangers they face…”

Lina considered her answer for a moment or two.

“I’ll admit that it was a bit daunting to start with….he’d get calls at all hours of the night and have to go to some crime scene where the perp’s wielding an axe or threatening to shoot someone….Meanwhile, I’d lie awake wondering if he’d come home again or I’d be half expecting one of his work mates to knock on the door and tell me something had happened to him….but, as Andy says ad nauseam, they’re better trained to deal with dangerous situations than most people and there’s danger out there everywhere if you care to look for it ….which I don’t, by the way.”

Lina took a deep breath to ease a pain in her lower back and then continued.

“Besides that, you fall in love with the person they are rather than the job they do….I just had to accept that his job was part of who he is and if I couldn’t accept it I would have to end it…..which I did consider for a split second….I’m sure anyone who is considering a relationship with a cop has that same thought….”

It was as Lina uttered those last words that the possible reason for Janet’s question popped into her head.

“Do you have a ‘thing’ for a cop?”

Fortunately for Janet, the hospital loomed directly ahead of them so she needed to focus on navigating their way to the emergency bay rather than answering Lina’s question. She wasn’t sure she was ready to reveal all just yet, however, the blush that rose on Janet’s cheeks gave Lina all the answers she needed.

“Who is it? Anyone we know? Is it….”

Her questions were cut short by another sharp contraction which clutched her body as it prepared itself to deliver her baby.

As she pulled the car into a parking bay close to the doors of the emergency ward, Janet duly noted the time…it was down to less than 20 minutes between contractions.

Alert to their arrival, a young male attendant was quickly by their side. He assisted Lina out of the passenger seat and into the wheelchair he insisted she use as part of hospital protocol.

“This is Lina Badir,” Janet explained as she strode along beside the attendant who was wheeling the chair towards the automatic doors. “She’s not full term…eight months….her waters broke about half an hour ago…the last contractions were just under twenty minutes apart…we called ahead.”

The doors opened and Lina was taken inside to the admissions counter. Before following, Janet halted outside and took a quick look around for Andy but he was nowhere to be seen. Once Lina was taken care of, she would try calling him again. Hopefully he’d make it to the hospital before the baby arrived but his time was running out.

It was as Janet stood at the admissions counter helping the nurse to complete the necessary forms, that a rather dishevelled Detective Inspector Andy Campbell raced up to them, the worry clear on his face and the relief clear on Lina’s. He’d obviously tried to put his coat on, on the run, and hadn’t done a good job of it. The collar was tucked in and the cuffs were uneven while his tie hung crookedly from his neck. Droplets of water fell from his hair and the tip of his nose. The rain had begun to fall.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he bent down and hugged his wife as best he could. He was still breathless from his sprint from the carpark into the emergency ward. “Is the baby okay? What’s happened?”

Before Lina had a chance to answer, two nurses brought in a hospital gurney. The doctor would see her now.

One look at the affection they held for each other explained to Janet, more clearly than words, why Andy’s job hadn’t come between them. Could she and Bianca have that too?

As Lina and the gurney were wheeled down the corridor, Janet was left to update Andy on the events of the afternoon as they followed close behind.

oooOooo

Chrissie had been right. By the time the forensic team had finished up and the crime scene had been secured, the heat of the day and the tedium of scanning for clues demanded that they seek out a place for a cold drink and a debrief. They had decided to join the rest of the team at a small pub barely a ten-minute drive from the industrial estate.

Although Bianca had been looking forward to seeing Janet again almost from the time she’d driven off that morning, she hadn’t counted on Chrissie turning up at the job. Eventually, after some internal wrestling, she’d decided that it wouldn’t hurt to have just one quick drink and a catch-up chat with her friend, after all, it had been years since they had seen each other and she held a genuine affection for the woman. Perhaps, too, in her subconscious mind, played the thought that Janet had made her wait nearly six months before any contact was made and even then, it had been by sheer accident…Who knew how much longer she’d had to wait if it hadn’t been for that chance meeting in the courthouse…. It wouldn’t hurt Janet to wait a couple of extra hours for Bianca now.

Most of the forensic team and one or two of the law enforcement officers who had finished their shift chose to hover close to the bar with their drinks and their friends, however, Bianca had found an empty table in a much more peaceful adjacent room, away from the constant, shrill ring of the poker machines and the loud chatter at the public bar.

While she waited for Chrissie to bring in their drinks, Bianca retrieved her phone from her pocket. She would text Janet and hopefully arrange to meet up later that evening. As she tapped out her message, she thought about what Janet might be doing. She was probably catching up on some much-needed sleep, Bianca concluded, as they had been otherwise occupied for a good part of the previous night and hadn’t slept for long.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Chrissie said as she placed their drinks on the table.

Bianca stopped texting and gave her a puzzled look.

“You had a smile on your face like the cat that had caught the canary…. What were you thinking about?”

“Oh…. Nothing.”

“Yeah…’Nothing’ makes me smile like that too,” Chrissie said with a touch of sarcasm and adding air quotes around the ‘nothing’.

Ignoring Chrissie’s teasing, Bianca closed the screen on her phone and put it down on the table with the message unfinished and unsent. Instead, she reached for her glass and chinked it against Chrissie’s with a hearty ‘Cheers.’ Both women then took a long pull on the ice-cold, amber ale.

“How long have you been a Chief Forensics Investigator?” Bianca asked over the first rumbles of thunder. The storm was well on its way. Slate-grey clouds shrouded the city and large drops of rain began to lunge at the windows beside where the two women were seated. In the distance, a brilliant vein of lightning split the sky.

Chrissie sat back casually in her chair listening to the sounds of the storm as her playful, green eyes examined Bianca’s face. She didn’t want to talk about work but it was a place to start.

“I actually own the company…Forensic Investigations Co. ‘for all your forensic needs’….The collecting and analysing of forensic evidence is big business these days. I set up the company almost three years ago…. I have all the best people and the best equipment in the state, if not the entire country, at my fingertips so when you guys have a crime scene that needs work you call us….it’s all outsourced these days. I hired some ‘suits’ to manage the show so I can work the practical side of things…. I find the business aspect too boring for words…I’d much rather spend my time out in the field.”

“Nothing’s changed there,” Bianca said with a laugh as she tried to picture her wild-spirited friend as a business woman, “but since when did you become so entrepreneurial?”

“A girl’s gotta make a living.”

“It sounds like you make more than just a living.”

“Mmmm…not to brag, but we cleared a little over four million last financial year.”

Bianca watched as her friend’s face then took on a more serious expression.

“My father died…Cancer….”

“I’m so sorry.” Bianca could think of nothing else to say. She knew Chrissie and her father didn’t get along…. too much alike in some ways, headstrong and stubborn ….but she also knew her friend would have been devastated at the same time.

“Thanks….Anyway, he left me a squillion dollars… the old tyrant had hoarded his money away like a squirrel instead of doing something useful with it. He and my mother hadn’t travelled or done anything remotely exciting  for most of the forty-five years they were married despite the fact that they were rolling in money. They’d built a posh house to impress their friends then shut themselves and their lives inside it with their boring dinner parties and afternoon teas. I was determined that this money would have a purpose…I’d had an idea but I never, not even in my wildest dreams, thought it would ever come to fruition like this…. but here it is and here I am, Dr Christine Williams, Chief Forensic Investigator and CEO of Forensic Investigations Inc……What about you, Sergeant Grieve, what have you been up to since we last saw each other?”

Bianca quickly ran the last three years over in her mind. She wouldn’t consider her life dull but nothing stood out.

“Just the usual….work….drug busts, snaring the occasional fraudster, shutting down cyber criminals, one or two anti-terrorist operations, some undercover work….same old, really.”

Chrissie laughed out loud at Bianca’s modesty. “You never were very good at tooting your own horn, were you? There’s been a promotion in there somewhere…you were only a Senior Constable last time I saw you.”

“Mmmm….Yeah, I sat my Sergeant’s exam almost three years ago and by some miracle I passed….nothing too spectacular.” Bianca was always slightly uncomfortable talking to others about her job. Being one of the few female AFP sergeants in such a male-dominated profession meant a lot to her but she didn’t expect others to appreciate or understand its significance and she never felt obliged to explain it.

“Are you still doing your painting?” Bianca asked as a means of changing the topic.

Chrissie shook her head pensively, her loose, strawberry-blonde curls bobbing back and forth as she did so.

“I haven’t painted anything for years….I haven’t had the time nor the inclination, to be honest….Do you still have that painting I did….the one I gave you….the one of us?” 

Bianca smiled and nodded. “It hangs above my fireplace in my living room,” she said coyly.

Chrissie leant forward and rubbed a hand affectionately along Bianca’s forearm before picking up her glass and taking another long draught of her beer.

“So, Sergeant Grieve, what about your love life?” she asked as she plonked the almost empty glass back on the table. “Any action there or are you married to the police force?”

Bianca balked for a second at the sudden change of subject and could feel a blush filling her cheeks. She took a mouthful of her own drink to put off answering.

“Oh, I know that sheepish look,” Chrissie laughed, “you _are_ with someone, aren’t you?”

“Okay…..Yes, there is someone special,” Bianca reluctantly confessed, knowing that it was pointless to try and avoid the topic, “but it’s been a bit ‘stop, start’ you could say, so it’s too early to tell for sure….but I’m hopeful.”

“Is she anyone I should know?”

“Possibly.”

“Well, spill.  What’s her name?”

“Janet King.”

Chrissie sat back and looked at her friend incredulously.

“ _The_ Janet King? DPP Senior Prosecutor Janet King? Commissioner Janet King? Sexy Janet King?”

Bianca nodded as she took another mouthful of her ale to hide the deepening red of her cheeks.

“That’s the second time you’ve impressed me today, Grieve….so tell me, is it true, that whole ‘cold bitch/Ice Queen’ thing she seems to have going on?”

Images of their love-making earlier that morning flashed through Bianca's head.

“Strictly a work persona,” Bianca said with a furtive smile, “she’s under a lot of pressure at work and she doesn’t tolerate fools very well.”

“Well, I’m thinking that if anyone can to thaw her out, you can,” Chrissie said with her characteristic wink and a knowing smile.

All this talk of Janet gave Bianca a sudden, irrepressible longing to be with her. She drained her glass and placed it on the table then made her excuses to Chrissie, explaining that it had been great to see her again but she really needed to leave if she was going to beat the worst of the storm. They both stood and held each other in a fond embrace and made promises to stay in touch. As they finally drew apart, Chrissie reached into the  pocket of Bianca’s trousers and snatched her phone then entered her number into the ‘contact’ list. “If you’re ever at a loose end, give me a call,” Chrissie instructed as she handed it back.

They walked together as far as the public bar then, after one more final hug and kisses to the cheek, Bianca headed for the door. Chrissie stood and watched the woman’s figure disappear into the tempest outside. Their lives were back in synch, she thought to herself, except for this Janet King infatuation and it was an infatuation. Chrissie knew from experience that as subtle as Bianca could be, she did not do love by halves, it was all or nothing. She’d also caught a glimpse of Bianca’s unsent text to Janet…”Been thinking about you all day….Missing you…Can…”

She knew Bianca would be heading to Janet’s place right now, despite the angry weather.

Outside, the rain was bucketing down. Thunder shook the ground while lashes of lightning electrified the air. It was going to be a challenging drive back into the city.

oooOooo

After the events of the afternoon and then the breaking of the storm, Janet had scrapped her plans to visit her mother and pick up the children a day early. Instead, she had cautiously driven straight home from the hospital through pelting rain.

When she’d left the hospital, Lina had been in the middle stages of labour. A part of Janet had wanted to stay in a show of support and to know that everything was going well for mother and baby but the other part of her felt as though she was intruding on Lina and Andy’s most intimate of moments so, in the end, she decided to leave but only after making Andy promise to call her and keep her updated.

Now she was once again home alone. Her last check of her phone showed no messages or calls from Bianca. With this chaotic weather, Janet knew that if the woman had any sense at all she’d be tucked up safely in her own home. Her heart sank just a little. She wasn’t going to see Bianca again today. Maybe later, when the storm abated, she’d try calling her just to see how she was. For now, she was going to pour a glass of wine, get herself comfortable on the lounge, open her laptop and resume her search through the evidence on the flashdrive she’d brought home from the office. That itch was still niggling at the back of her brain and she needed to relieve it.

It was a short while later, when Janet had ventured back into the kitchen and was searching the fridge for something that would resemble dinner, that there came a frantic knocking at her front door. Puzzled that anyone would be out in this weather and slightly panicked by the idea that it may have something to do with her children, Janet rushed to see who it was. As she opened the door, she saw standing before her a figure that very closely resembled a half-drowned cat… however, from Janet’s point of view, a very lovely and very welcome half-drowned cat. It was Bianca. Her hair was plastered to her head by the rain. Water droplets fell from the tip of her nose and chin. Her drenched shirt and rolled-up trousers stuck to her like a second skin and her feet were bare. The relief of having Bianca there as well as her rather comical appearance brought a broad smile to Janet’s face.

“Are you mad?” Janet asked in astonishment. “What are you doing out in this storm?”

“Don’t you want me here?” Bianca replied, her expression one of feigned hurt, “I can leave if you like.”

Bianca turned as if to head for her car but Janet quickly grabbed her by the hand.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said gruffly as she hauled Bianca through the doorway, “come in out of the rain.”

Bianca had no choice but to obey. She entered but halted, sodden and dripping, just inside the door, a large puddle rapidly forming at her feet.

“I can’t go inside like this…..I’ll drip water everywhere.”

Janet stepped in close to her, not caring that she too would end up wet, and with a single fingertip brushed away some droplets that clung to Bianca’s brow.

“We need to get you out of these wet clothes,” Janet said as she pressed her lips gently against Bianca’s while her fingers worked at unbuttoning the shirt. By the time their lips eventually parted Janet had managed to free all the buttons and partially peel off the shirt but, much to her frustration, she couldn’t remove it completely as Bianca clutched something in her hand.

“The good news is I’ve brought dinner,” Bianca announced as she displayed the plastic shopping bag she’d been holding, her wet shirt dangling from her wrist. “Noodles….nourishing noodles.”

oooOooo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Janet opened the refrigerator and searched for the plastic bag that held the two take-away containers full of noodles that Bianca had presented when she had first arrived. It was fortunate that the food had made it as far as the fridge for it was to be well over an hour before the women actually made time to eat it.

After dashing from her car to Janet’s front gate then through to the door in the torrential rain, Bianca had stood, dripping and dishevelled, just inside the doorway where the water gravitated towards the floor forming rapidly spreading pools. However, with ample help from Janet, Bianca was quickly relieved of all the offending rain-soaked clothes.

It was while Janet reluctantly left her there, naked all bar the goosebumps that dressed her skin, to hurriedly take the soggy pile of clothes to the drier, that Bianca made the most of  the opportunity to place the food in the fridge as it was obvious from the manner in which those clothes had been removed (several shirt buttons would need to be located and sewn back on at a later stage) as well as the ardent kisses and intimate touches that accompanied this task that they were going to be far too distracted by ‘other matters’ to eat the noodles any time soon.

Once Janet had returned from the laundry, she had taken Bianca by the hand and, with that wonderful, irresistible smile on her face and an urgency in her step, easily enticed her up to the bedroom using the thinly-veiled excuse of finding her a towel and some dry clothes to put on although she needn’t have bothered with any such pretence.  At any given time, the very thought of the woman set off an unmatched craving within Bianca and in her actual presence that craving became a lustful desire that, at the very least, equalled Janet’s own.

Outside, the storm had broken and was frantically unleashing its fury on the city. At its peak its howling winds and lashing rain felled trees and toppled power poles across the suburbs.  All along the coastline the sea was being whipped into a foaming frenzy as towering waves greedily bit into the shore, dredging huge chunks of sand back into the sea with each retreat. Scores of houses in its wake were to be left exposed as the storm’s menacing fingers effortlessly peeled back iron roofing and tiles and tossed them carelessly asunder.

 Inside, Janet and Bianca worked to the theme, creating a tempest of their own. It was one of fervent kisses and wild touches, of tongues delving into eager mouths, of lips relentlessly searching and searing a path along every undulation and curve while attentive hands responded to the writhe and call of the lover beneath them. Their skin, their muscles, their nerves, each one a conduit for the electrifying touches that once again sparked the embers of the morning’s affections, sending ever-increasing jolts of carnal pleasure surging through their bodies until together they reached a peak of such strength that it may have been drawn directly from the storm beyond. They could do nothing but surrender to its charge.  

In the throes of it all they had clung tightly to each other, bodies tensed like springs of coiled steel, their breathing shallow and rapid, their hearts pounding. They had paid little attention to anything other than the mounting ecstasy within.  Now, like the storm, their energy was spent and their need sated.  The two women lay limply in Janet’s bed, their bare bodies loosely entangled as they listened mindlessly to the hypnotic drumming of the rain that still fell but with less force and to the sporadic echo of the distant thunder as the storm relented its grip on the city and moved on to the north where it was to eventually peter out.

Bianca dozed contentedly while Janet, wondrous as to the intensity of what had just happened, lay beside and watched over her.

 “Hungry?” Janet asked when she noticed Bianca finally stir.

“Mmmm…..” was the reply as Bianca rolled closer to Janet and kissed her lazily on the chin.

 After such frenetic activity, the fact that they hadn’t eaten earlier was inevitably taking its toll.

 Janet reluctantly unravelled herself from Bianca and rose from the bed, put on some arbitrary clothes and made her way into the kitchen in search of sustenance, switching on the occasional light as she moved through the various rooms. The darkness within the house now was a result of the lateness of the hour rather than the brooding clouds that had taken over the afternoon sky.

Having located the plastic bag, Janet removed the take-away containers and placed them on the kitchen bench while she organised bowls and cutlery. She then spooned a healthy dollop or two of noodles into each bowl, placed them in the microwave and pushed the buttons, setting it to do its thing.

As she stood waiting for the tell-tale ‘ping’ to announce that the food was done, she felt the light touch of a hand slide over her hip and a proprietary arm wrap around her waist. The other hand tucked loose strands of her blonde hair behind her ear so that soft kisses could be plied to her shoulder and neck. Janet leaned back into what she knew to be the strong body of Bianca, turned her head slightly and placed her own kisses on the woman’s cheek.

“There’s cold water or wine in the fridge if you want something to drink,” she offered between the kisses.

“What? No beer?” Bianca complained in mock disgust.

“Sorry, no, I don’t usually keep beer,” Janet laughed, “but it’s duly noted for next time.”

After one last playful nip to Janet’s neck, Bianca released her hold on her and moved to the fridge. Although the wine was tempting, she chose to pour from the carafe of cold water in order to quench her thirst.

Bianca followed Janet as the two women made their way into the living room and the less formal comfort of the sofa, each with a bowl of noodles in one hand and a glass of water (with mandatory ice-cubes bobbing at the surface) in the other. She could barely keep the besotted smile from her face as her eyes fixed on the line where Janet’s T-shirt ended and those lovely, long legs began for that was all she wore…all either of them wore….a loose T-shirt and underwear.

As they each settled into a spot on the sofa, Bianca set her bowl and glass down on the coffee table to free her hands so she could move Janet’s laptop out of harm’s way. It had been left there when Janet had been working on it earlier that afternoon, before Bianca had arrived. Not wanting to risk spilling water or slopping noodles on it, Bianca carefully pushed it further across the glass surface, the movement inadvertently bringing the screen back to life as she did so.

At first, Bianca didn’t take much notice of the image that appeared on the screen but as she relaxed back into the sofa and enjoyed her first mouthful of noodles, her attention was drawn to it more fully. There was no mistaking that it was a photograph taken by a forensic expert for the specific purpose of providing evidence. She had seen hundreds, possibly thousands of these over the years. It featured a single, blue, round tablet with the scale showing it to have a diameter of five millimetres. Bianca sat upright again, put her bowl back down on the coffee table and studied the photo more carefully.

“What is it?” Janet asked, bemused by Bianca’s sudden alertness and curious as to what it was about the photo that had piqued her interest.

Bianca now sat forward on the sofa and had pulled the laptop closer to her so she could study the image more carefully.

“What case is this from?” Bianca asked ignoring Janet’s question then, realising her brusqueness, she turned and added with an apologetic smile, “sorry…Do you mind if I ask?”

Dismissing the initial tone, Janet shook her head and answered, “It’s from that case I mentioned to you…. you know, the local councillor, Lance Bradshaw who was found supposedly drowned in his swimming pool but it turned out to be an untidy cover-up for his murder……Why?”

“And where does this tablet fit into it all?”

Usually Janet would be irritated at having her own questions answered with another but she could see that Bianca had switched to investigative mode so she let it slide.

“Forensics found two on the coffee table and one under the cushion of the couch in the Bradshaw house when they were going through the place. The wife and the sons claim they have never seen them or any tablets like them before and know nothing about it so we can only assume, if they’re telling the truth, that either Bradshaw himself or a visitor, welcome or unwelcome, brought them into the house.”

“Amphetamines?” Bianca asked although she was already fairly certain of the answer which was confirmed by the nod of Janet’s head.

“Bradshaw was found to have some in his system at the time of his death although they hadn’t been there very long. There was also a high level of alcohol…but not high enough to kill him … the coroner determined that the cause of death was asphyxia due to manual strangulation. We suspect that the two tablets left on the table were ‘staged’ so police would immediately think he’d accidentally fallen in the pool while on a high from the drugs. We also think the defendants accused of killing Bradshaw may have somehow forced him to take the amphetamines that were in his system but there’s no forensic evidence to support the theory and they’re denying it.”

“Of course… Did Bradshaw have a history of taking amphetamines or other drugs?”

“Not that anyone is saying or that we can determine….alcohol was his drug of choice according to the wife.”

Bianca fell silent. She rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her steepled fingers as the image on the screen consumed her attention. Janet automatically took another mouthful of her noodles, all the while keeping her gaze fixed on Bianca. She could almost see the woman’s mind ticking over and as she watched, it struck her how much she trusted and respected Bianca, sentiments that were never easily won from her. However, without strain or conscious thought, these intense feelings she had for her had come into being. The woman was intelligent and dedicated by nature and diligent when it came to finding answers but, at the same time, she was accepting of life and those things in it which she was unable to control or change. She had her faults as we all do and Bianca would be the first to admit to them, but it was in those imperfections that, for Janet, lay what seemed to be her true appeal. Her comfortable acknowledgement of herself and others for who they were was highly attractive.

Janet had been encouraged her whole life and in every aspect of her life, by those around her and by herself, to strive for perfection. It was something that as an adult she had come to realise was not practical nor ever attainable and inevitably led to disappointment. It wasn’t that Janet was dissatisfied with what she had achieved with her life…indeed, she recognised that she had done extremely well and deservedly so as she had worked hard. She was a highly respected Senior Prosecutor who had been entrusted with heading a successful Royal Commission, she was raising two boisterous children as a single-parent and, before Ash’s death, she’d managed to maintain a loving, long-term relationship but there had always been that worm of discontent, the thought that she could have done better somehow, that wriggled inside of her. In Bianca’s company that worm disappeared. She felt safe in letting down her guard and being her less-than-perfect self, not always having to be strong, not always the one who had to be in control. It was this which had drawn her to Bianca in the first instance when they had met all those months ago, and it drew her inextricably to her now … as well, of course, as the gorgeous package she came wrapped in. If pressed, Janet would have to admit to _occasionally_ taking one or two extra admiring peeks at Bianca as she strode into the office in her work suit with the top two buttons of her trim-cut shirt casually left undone allowing a taunting glimpse of the swell of her breasts beneath it. With the accompanying low-ride boots as well as the leather gun holster Janet knew to be strapped securely beneath the jacket, it gave her the overall effect of a woman prepared to defend and protect which Janet found very appealing and certainly worth a second, possibly even a third glance…. she was only human, after all.

“Why the interest?” Janet finally asked, disrupting the quiet that, until now, was filled only by the beat of the falling rain.

“I’m not sure,” Bianca replied cautiously, “but see this stamp on the top of the tablet…almost like a question mark…”

Bianca pointed out the distinct mark she was referring to. Janet looked more closely.

“That’s the same stamp that was on the haul of amphetamines we took in the raid over a few months ago, also on the ones found in Michael Collin’s car…they’re probably from the same batch but we’d have to run tests on them to make certain.”

“So Lance Bradshaw or someone else who was in his house bought drugs from your Michael Collins at some stage or someone he had on-sold them to…..or a friend….or any one of a thousand people, really…..Impossible to tell…..Is that significant?” Janet asked as she struggled to see, at this point, how the dots connected.

Bianca turned to face Janet more fully, her eyes suddenly wide and alert.

 “I’m not sure how it all fits together but Michael Collins was only a small cog in a big wheel….he picks up the drugs from the major distribution point and delivers them to dealers up and down the coast….as far north as the Gold Coast, we suspect. We’ve had our eye on this consignment of drugs since the time it boarded the ship in Ecuador. We let the ‘owners’ come and pick it up….we tracked it and then we seized it and arrested several of the major players. We thought we’d taken it out of action but somehow, a week later, Collins is caught with a bag containing almost a kilogram of the same amphetamine tablets and $100K in cash hidden in his car…. then the judge at the committal hearing decided the evidence wasn’t enough to take him to trial. Stupid….”  Bianca bit off her sentence there to save any profanities tainting the air.

“How do you know they’re from that particular consignment?” Janet asked, her own curiosity now awakened.

“We tested them…. They’re from the same lab…. we thought we’d caught Collins before he’d had a chance to ‘spread the joy’ but now these turn up at this Bradshaw’s house…it makes me wonder who or what we’ve missed.”

“That’s if they’re the same ones.”

Bianca nodded. “We won’t know for sure unless we compare the chemical make-up of tablets from the retrieved batch to this one …. but they look identical and that stamp…..”

Bianca let her sentence trail off as she eased back into the sofa and tried to work out the possible implications of it all _. How were these tablets removed from the seized consignment? Had they found and confiscated all the drugs in the raid or had they missed some? And the most inconceivable of all possibilities…..Was there someone inside the AFP…someone on her team who was bent?_

Janet let Bianca mull over the problem for a few moments more while she concentrated on her food, however, she concluded that the photo was creating more questions than answers at this stage and not wanting to take up what was left of their evening together with work matters, Janet stretched over and gently but deliberately shut her laptop so the screen was no longer visible.

“If I promise to have the tablet sent for testing first thing on Monday…. if it hasn’t been done already, in which case, I’ll send you the results…..can we leave it for now?” she suggested in the hope that the conundrum could be put to one side.

“I know someone in forensics who could probably fast-track that if need be. Would you like me to give her a c….?”

“Good,” Janet cut in then leaning forward, she dipped her hand into Bianca’s hair and drew her into a languid kiss by way of a possible distraction.

“Sorry. It can wait until work hours,” Bianca said when their lips finally parted, her expression apologetic as she ran a fingertip affectionately along Janet’s jawline. She was well aware that once she was presented with pieces to a puzzle she could be like a dog with a bone.

“Finish your noodles,” Janet replied with an understanding smile as she sat back to do the same. She knew what it was like to feel driven for answers. “They’re going cold and you need to keep up your strength.”

“Yes, mum,” Bianca teased which earned her a playful slap on the thigh and a less-than-convincing scowl.

Determined to assign the matter to the back of her mind for now, Bianca re-positioned some of the copious number of cushions so she could rest her back comfortably against the end of the sofa then cheekily stretched her bare legs across Janet’s lap which Janet allowed without comment, only acknowledging her boldness with the merest hint of a smile. Both women past the next few minutes in a contented silence as they concentrated on polishing off their food.

It was as Bianca finished her last mouthful and had swung her legs from Janet’s lap so she was sitting upright again that there came the harsh ringing of a mobile phone. Bianca’s phone remained upstairs in the bedroom where she had left it earlier. It was Janet’s phone which lay on the coffee table that disrupted the peaceful mood. Janet retrieved it and pressed the screen to answer the call.

“Andy, hi.”

While Janet spoke, Bianca collected the empty bowls and glasses and carried them into the kitchen where she rinsed them and placed them in the dishwasher. As she looked back towards the living room she could see Janet was now standing up and pacing the length of the room with a discernible frown on her face.

Not wanting to interfere, Bianca took the opportunity to dash up to the bedroom and check her own phone for messages. The home screen told her she had two messages wanting her attention. From the menu, she could see that the first was from her brother but the second simply displayed a number. It was one she didn’t recognise. She opened her brother’s message first, a request for her to mind her nephew and niece for a Friday evening next month. She’d have to check her schedule before she answered that one. Anxious to ensure that everything was alright with Janet, Bianca left the second message unopened for now and returned downstairs.

As Bianca entered the kitchen she could see that Janet still had her phone to her ear but rather than pacing the floor, she was perched on the edge of the sofa, her elbows resting on her knees and her forehead planted in the palm of one hand as she listened intently. Concerned by Janet’s expression but with there being nothing she could do at the minute, Bianca turned her attention to her own phone. She tapped the screen and opened the message from ‘unknown’. A smile spread across her face as she read it.

“Fabulous 2 c u today. U r still as gorgeous as ever. We should do it again when u don’t have 2 hurry off. Dinner one night? Call me…sooner rather than later. Chrissie xxx”

She could only surmise that when Chrissie had taken her phone that afternoon and was entering her number into Bianca’s contact list she had also sent a message to her own phone thereby storing Bianca’s number. It didn’t worry her that Chrissie had her number, in fact the only reason it hadn’t occurred to Bianca to reciprocate with her own number was that she had been too preoccupied with wanting to be with Janet to think of giving it to her.

While she tried to think of an appropriate response to Chrissie’s message, Bianca remembered the bottle of wine Janet had mentioned. She rested the phone on the kitchen bench while she sought out the cupboard that held the wine glasses and retrieved the bottle from the door of the fridge. As she poured, she caught Janet’s words, “It will be alright, Andy. They know what they’re doing. She’ll be under the best of care.”

What had happened to need those ominous words, Bianca wondered as she carried the wine glasses into the living room. She placed Janet’s glass on the coffee table in front of her and, out of politeness, was about to leave the room again but Janet reached out and clasped her free hand, signalling for her to stay and to sit beside her. At this proximity, Bianca was unable to avoid listening in to Janet’s end of the conversation although she had no clue as to its subject, however, seeing the consternation it brought to Janet’s face, Bianca instinctively wrapped a protective arm around the woman’s shoulders. In response, she felt Janet lean into her a little more. As she waited for the call to end, Bianca occupied herself with sipping her wine.

“Don’t hesitate to contact me if something happens or if you need me to do anything for you…Okay?....Night, Andy. Take care.”

As soon as Janet had disconnected the call, Bianca asked, “Is everything alright?”

Janet put the phone back on the table and stretched the tension from her neck.

“It’s Lina’s baby… ”

“Lina’s baby? What’s happened? It’s not due for another month or so.”

“It wasn’t but it decided today was going to be the day, ready or not,” Janet began to explain as she reached for her glass of wine.

Realising that she hadn’t actually had a chance to tell Bianca about her eventful afternoon, Janet proceeded to fill her in on all that had happened earlier that day – her mission to go to her office and sift through the Bradshaw evidence once more, Lina’s presence in the office preparing for her maternity leave, her waters breaking in the bathroom along with the first contractions which was followed by their race to the hospital in Janet’s car and waiting with Lina until Andy finally turned up. Bianca listened on in amazement.

“You looked worried when you were speaking to Andy…..Did everything go alright with the birth?” Bianca asked apprehensively.

Janet took a fortifying mouthful of her wine before answering.

“Not exactly.”

“Shit,” Bianca muttered as she flopped against the back of the sofa, “what’s happened?” She hoped upon hope that Janet wasn’t about to tell her the worst possible news.

Janet flopped back beside her taking Bianca’s hand in her own as she did so and loosely entwining their fingers. She needed the reassurance of their touch.

“After a shotgun start, it was as though the baby changed its mind and everything slowed down then its vital signs showed it was in distress….the umbilical cord had become tangled around its neck….they’re doing an emergency C-section now…. Andy doesn’t know what exactly is going on as they’ve sent him out of the theatre …. He’s confused …. worried …. and a bit dazed, I think.”

“Shit,” Bianca muttered again as there really were no words for such a precarious situation. Did their baby have another miracle left in it, Bianca wondered. The conception had been a miracle in itself, now it was a question of whether it could perform a second miracle, that being the one of survival against the odds.

From the lines that furrowed Janet’s brow and the slight quiver of her chin, it was obvious to Bianca that Andy wasn’t the only one struggling with the uncertain future of his child. It hadn’t been that long ago that Janet had come perilously close to losing her own children and in the most horrendous of circumstances. Andy and Lina’s situation would, no doubt, bring those memories and those emotions flooding back to her.  Bianca drew herself closer to Janet and kissed her cheek.  Janet rewarded her with a weak smile then went back to sipping her wine in thoughtful silence, her eyes, filmed with tears, were fixed unseeingly on the far wall.  It didn’t take a genius to know what thoughts plucked at the edge of that fresh scar that marked her heart.

“While I take a wander and find the laundry and my clothes, why don’t you give your mother a call and say goodnight to the twins?” Bianca suggested tactfully.

Janet looked at the time on her phone.

“It’s 8:30pm….Mum will have them in bed by now….they’ll be asleep.”

“Or they might not be…. It’s Saturday night, she may have let them stay up late or she could still be reading to them.” Bianca retrieved the phone from the coffee table and plonked it on Janet’s lap. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Just as Bianca stood and was about to head for the laundry, Janet tugged her back and placed a delicate kiss on her the back of her hand.

“Thank you,” Janet whispered, “for giving me a second chance.”

Bianca leaned over so Janet’s mouth was within reach and replied with a kiss of her own.

As their lips drew apart, Janet kept her hold of Bianca’s hand.

“You know you don’t have to go tonight…. back to your house…. unless you want to.”

Bianca grinned. “Do you want me to stay?”

Janet gave a comic roll of her eyes. _Was she really going to make her beg her to stay?_

“Only if you agree to let me get some sleep…. eventually,” Janet teased.

“Deal,” Bianca agreed with a mischievous smile. She had to admit that she was in need of some sleep as well after their recent strenuous activities. “If I’m going to stay, how about I top these up?” she added, indicating to the wine glasses.

“Sure,” Janet replied handing over her glass.

“Now make that call before it’s too late.”

With those last words, Bianca returned to the kitchen.

Once there, she spotted her own phone sitting on the bench where she’d left it which reminded her that she still needed to respond to her friend. Bianca picked it up and re-opened her messages, in particular, the text from Chrissie.  She really should reply but what would she say?

oooOooo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse my tardiness with this chapter. Life has a way of interfering with my writing at times. Also, please leave any prior knowledge you have of the law, police procedure and forensic science at the door before you proceed. Things happen differently in the Land of Fanfiction. I hope you enjoy reading.

 

The drive from her house, through the city and then a further thirty or so kilometres west to where land use was less inclined to housing and more towards light industry was uneventful and Bianca had made it in relatively quick time which could probably be attributed to the fact that when she’d left, the rising disc of the sun was balancing just above the eastern horizon. The infamous Sydney traffic hadn’t yet had time to gather momentum. This far from the city heart, the cost of a sizeable tract of land bit into the budget far less deeply.

It was only a little after 6:30am when Bianca turned off the service road and pulled into an empty visitors’ carpark where she steered her unmarked police vehicle into the bay nearest the entrance. Her attention was immediately grabbed by both the formidable size and design of the building that was directly in front of her, her destination. It was three storeys of clean lines and acute angles in steel, aluminium and glass, all used in such a manner as to create a structure that seemed to have been plucked from some future millennia only to be brazenly planted on this block of land, it’s space-age appearance all the more stark for being set amid the mundanity of the unimaginative boxes of the present day. On the north-facing side of the building and complementing the futuristic effect was a strip of the property that was dedicated to row upon row of solar panels, each one precisely angled in such a way as to capture the maximum amount of the sun’s energy as it travelled the sky.

 Lying at the front of the building was an inviting area of verdant lawn and well-maintained gardens which served as an over-sized ‘welcome mat’ for any visitor as they made their way towards the entrance. Subtle signage on the frosted-glass front introduced the building as “Forensic Investigations Co.”

_“Impressive, Chrissie. Very impressive,” Bianca thought to herself as she stood back and took in the details, “but you always did have a tendency for the dramatic.”_

The view to what she assumed to be the employees’ carpark told her that it was probably going to be just herself and Dr Christine ‘Chrissie’ Williams, creator and CEO of the company as well as its chief forensic officer, on site at such an early hour on this Thursday morning for Chrissie’s ostentatious, yellow Porsche 911 …. her one true extravagance as she liked her cars fast and flashy….was the only vehicle parked there.

It wasn’t usual for Bianca to go out of her way to personally pick up forensic reports on a case. Normally, reports and information were sent electronically to her AFP email account while anything else she needed to see would be delivered to her office and brought to her attention by one of her team. However, on this occasion, Dr Chrissie Williams, her friend and the forensic investigator assigned to this case, had her personal assistant give Bianca a courtesy call to inform her that the work on the Michael Collins' case had been prioritised and most of the forensic testing was now complete. The formal report was still several days away from being submitted but if Bianca cared to visit Forensic Investigations Co. in person, Dr Williams would be happy to talk her through all that had been uncovered so far.  Eager as ever to make progress on the case and to know exactly what evidence they had, Bianca had accepted the invitation and made an appointment. She also had to admit to a certain amount of curiosity as to the facility her friend had set up, so here she was and her initial reaction to what she saw was to be totally awe-struck.

As Bianca followed the designated path to the entrance of the building she could see her friend up ahead opening the door to the reception area where she then waited to greet her early morning guest. Although Chrissie was dressed less than elegantly in the standard, navy coveralls with the company logo emblazoned on the chest pocket, heavy-duty work boots on her feet and her strawberry-blonde hair pulled back fiercely into a ponytail from which several recalcitrant coils still managed to escape and tumble over her forehead, Bianca had to admit that her friend certainly cut a fine figure, one which it seemed maturity and her new-found sense of purpose had only enhanced.

Chrissie greeted Bianca with her familiar, warm smile and a cheery “Good morning” as the two women reached out and briefly engaged in a friendly embrace. Chrissie also applied a light kiss to Bianca’s cheek before asking,“So what do you think so far?” Her voice brimmed with obvious pride for her project.

“It’s amazing,” Bianca replied honestly, “but surely you couldn’t afford all of this on your own.” _Her thoughts voiced before she could stop them_.

Chrissie’s cheeks flushed slightly.

“No, you’re right….I had to bring three other people on board, loyal and, most importantly, wealthy associates of my father who didn’t want to see his little girl suffer in his absence but it’s an investment that is beginning to pay quite handsomely for them and should only improve in the future….they’re silent partners for the most part….oh,  and I managed to wrangle some serious money from the bank so they also have a vested interest….but I own the majority share and retain control….for all intents and purposes, it’s my company.”

“Very impressive.”

“What do you think of the design? I had a friend of mine, a professional architect, draw it up but I had a lot of input as I was aiming for a specific look,” Chrissie explained, “and I wanted it to be an artistic statement as well as purpose-built.”

“Well, it’s certainly that,” Bianca agreed, “makes the other places around here look very ordinary.”

After a little more of the usual, polite small talk as they made their way through the reception area, passing a staffroom and what looked to be a crèche on their way, Chrissie offered Bianca a quick tour of the main part of the facility.

With her interest piqued by the exterior of the structure, Bianca was curious to see what wonders the inside held and was quick to accept the invitation. She also couldn't help sensing that her friend would be disappointed if she didn’t allow her to indulge in showing off her 'pride and joy'.

As they left the reception area they approached a sturdy, glass door that marked the threshold of where the serious work of forensic science began. Chrissie reached into the top of her coveralls and pulled out her keycard which hung on a lanyard about her neck. She waved it over the sensor pad and, as the small red light turned to green, the doors automatically parted.

The corridor they entered was wide, wide enough in fact for the two women to walk comfortably side-by-side and as they walked Chrissie gave a running commentary on specific functions of the various laboratories they past. The ground floor they were presently on was mostly given over to specialised instrumentation with complex, computer-driven analytical equipment in a mind-boggling array of shapes, sizes and capabilities taking up much of the space. For the moment, most of it sat idle waiting for the scientists to start their day although it was obvious that some computers had been programmed to work through the night analysing the given data or carrying out other intricate, automated tasks as their screens flashed and printers whirred.

As they reached the end of the corridor, Chrissie explained that there was a level below them where records were held and evidence stored in special climate-controlled conditions, however, they took the lift to the floor above.

At first glance, the space here seemed to be filled with what looked like kitchens with kitchen-like benches, cupboards, microwaves and sinks but on closer inspection the presence of beakers, test tubes, autoclaves, benchtop microscopes, computers, drying cabinets, fuming chambers, incubators and other bits of equipment that Bianca couldn’t even begin to identify, told of a whole different purpose as did the plaques denoting the different areas: Toxicology, Trace Evidence, Drug and Fingerprint Analysis, Biology and so on.

Every so often as they walked along the corridor, Chrissie would put a hand lightly on Bianca’s shoulder or forearm and pull her up in order to explain a particular aspect of the lab or point out a piece of the latest technology that had been recently acquired and expound on its purpose.  Most of the scientific minutiae that was being explained went well over Bianca’s head but she found Chrissie’s passion for the work highly contagious and despite her initial desire to simply get what she came for and leave, she found herself quite intrigued by the processes that took place to provide the irrefutable facts which helped her piece together the puzzle of each crime.

Once again, having reached the end of the corridor, they took the elevator to the third floor. As they alighted, Chrissie acknowledged that there was little of interest to Bianca here as most of this level was taken up with private offices, conference rooms and a small gymnasium.

 “The job often requires a lot of sitting around looking at computer screens so we provide a convenient means of exercising,” Chrissie explained. “A healthy staff costs us less in the way of sick days and lost work hours.”

Lightly grasping Bianca’s forearm once again, she guided her friend the short distance to her own private suite, a room of substantial size which was tastefully fitted out with stylish yet functional furnishings.

Despite being offered a seat, while Chrissie busied herself opening files on her computer that held the information she had prepared as well as gathering some handwritten notes and then bringing the data projector and screen to life, Bianca chose to stand by the huge panel of glass which enclosed two sides of the room. From here she could take in the full extent of the facility.

“What happens there?” Bianca asked as she indicated to the two buildings that were located quite a distance away.

Chrissie looked up from her computer screen to see where Bianca was pointing.

“The building on the left is the Firearms Lab and the other one is used for crime scene simulation,” Chrissie answered distractedly as she concentrated on bringing up the first image to the screen. “Both areas need to be kept away from the other labs for obvious health and safety reasons….if something was to go wrong there, a lot of evidence could potentially be lost if they were right next door.”

Satisfied now that all was ready to run, she added, “If you want to take a seat, I’ll talk you through what we’ve come up with so far.”  She then pressed a button that lowered a black screen in front of the windows to eliminate any glare.

Bianca settled herself into one of the two armchairs chairs facing the interactive screen and opened her notebook in readiness while Chrissie occupied the other armchair, the remote control at the ready.

The image she brought up onto the screen was the first in a series of still photos taken from the crime scene. It was a split-screen image of two different pairs of shoeprints.

“With the crime scene having been a busy warehouse up until recently, many different shoeprints were found…. some clearly visible, some latent… however, the prints on the screen are unique,” Chrissie narrated, “the prints on the left are a match with Michael Collins' shoes….those on the right are the only other prints we found in the blood therefore the wearer must have been present at the time of the killing or at least very soon after when the blood was still wet. This shoeprint is also the same as the one found on the trouser leg of Michael Collins’ jeans.….. We’ve eliminated the shoeprints of the two boys who we know entered the warehouse.”

The next slide honed in on the shoeprints that had been on the right of the previous slide, presumably those of Collins' attacker.

“Using the tread pattern, we were able to determine the brand of the shoe,” Chrissie continued as she referred to her notes to ensure her information was accurate. “Unfortunately, it probably won’t give you any joy to know that the shoe is a Dunlop KT26, available in just about any of the big-name stores and sold in the thousands.”

Bianca shook her head as she wrote the information in her notebook. The difficulty of trying to track down such a common and readily available shoe was almost too much to contemplate.

“However, some information that is more promising is that it’s a large shoe… a size 14….that should narrow it down slightly.”

Bianca expressed her doubt with another shake of her head.

“The way the shoe is worn also tells us a few things.” Chrissie said as she used the laser feature of her remote to draw Bianca’s attention to a specific part of the sole. “You can see here that the outside edge of each shoe is noticeably worn indicating that the person wearing the shoe supinates and probably has high arches….but more significantly, the outside of the right shoe is far more worn than that of the left shoe….for some reason they favour their right leg….perhaps due to an injury or disability.”

Bianca finished writing her notes in her own particular shorthand then gave her full attention to the image on the screen, imprinting it on her memory.

“Anything else from the shoeprint?” she asked.

“I’d say that the person wearing the shoe is male, taller than average and quite heavily built with a possible limp or at least favouring their right leg,” Chrissie answered as she watched Bianca busily scribe. “He has blue eyes, a thick moustache, an Italian accent and….”

Bianca looked up and gave her friend a dubious frown.

“Okay, I might be wrong about the eyes, moustache and accent,” Chrissie admitted with a playfulness in her voice and a cheeky smile on her face. “Lighten up, Grieve…..we’re good but we’re not _that_ good.”

“What else have you got for me?” Bianca asked casually, dismissing her friend’s teasing.

As they worked their way through each slide, several other vital clues were revealed. A fresh tyre print had been lifted from the dirt outside the warehouse. The presence of Collin’s footprints beside it indicating that it was probably the vehicle he arrived in. Chrissie provided Bianca with the make and model number which was immediately recorded in her notebook.

There was also some spotting of fresh oil where the tyre tracks indicated the car would have been parked. A sample had been taken and analysed. The detailed results would be included in the final report but, at the moment, it was suffice to say that the condition of the oil indicated a motor that had a fair bit of wear to it, an older model car possibly.

“So they parked outside the warehouse and, at this stage, Collins is walking with this other person towards the entrance,” Bianca surmised aloud, “whether he was walking voluntarily or not we don’t know.”

“There’s no sign of a scuffle outside, “Chrissie added, “however, inside is a different story.”

Chrissie brought up a number of photos which showed there had been quite a brawl within the warehouse and all indications pointed to it having begun soon after the men had entered. According to the position and pattern of various blood spatters, fragments of flesh and even a tooth from the unfortunate Michael Collins, as well as strands of human hair, the fight was then concentrated in two locations before Collins was immobilised for good at the spot where the body was discovered.

“Collins looks to have put up quite a fight,” Chrissie declared as she showed a photo of several strands of ginger hair. “These were found on the surface of his hand and under his nails. He’s pulled at his attacker’s hair and managed to get roots and all. We’re still in the process of getting a complete DNA profile from the hairs….once we’re done, we’ll send it over and your guys can see if they come up with a match from the database.”

“Excellent…….What about the tyre lever that was at the scene?”

Again, the relevant photo of a blood encrusted tyre lever was displayed.

“Generic brand….nothing special there. The blood belongs to Collins….I’m sure the coroner will find that it was the weapon used to inflict most of the injuries…..unfortunately, the blood is too smeared so where there may have been fingerprints originally they’ve been effectively lost….apart from the blood, all we discovered were a couple of cotton fibres…navy in colour…..they could have been from the perp’s clothing or they could have been picked up from the warehouse floor.”

Bianca rose from her seat and walked towards the screen. Chrissie followed.

“There’s one thing I’m still not sure about,” Bianca said as she stood close to the screen and pondered the pieces of the puzzle that had been presented.

“What?”

“There was no sign of forced entry….right? No alarm going off…no forced-entry marks on the door itself.”

“Right.”

“So the perp probably had a key to the door…”

“Or he picked the lock.”

“Mmmm...possibly but I don’t think so…I’m not sure why….it’s just a gut feeling I have.”

Chrissie smiled to herself as she watched Bianca process the information and mentally sort through various possible scenarios. _Why had she been foolish enough to let this woman get away, she wondered to herself. She knew it had seemed the right thing to do at the time but she couldn’t help a twinge of regret._ She was abruptly brought back from her thoughts by the sound of Bianca’s voice.

“The boys who found the body came in under the roller door……Why was the roller door open? Our perp would have left using the door he and Collins originally entered through so why was the roller door up?”

It was Chrissie’s turn to problem solve.  She quickly flicked through the photos until she found the one she wanted. It was one that showed, mounted on a side wall, the powerbox that contained the switch to the roller door. Streaks of blood covered the switch and the wall beside it.

“The blood belongs to the victim….his fingers have been dragged across the switch smearing the blood in the elongated fashion you see here,” Chrissie explained as she pointed out the features she was talking about. “What if Collins had temporarily broken away from his attacker and had tried to open the door so he could escape?… He was stopped, however, before it had opened far enough.”

Bianca tossed the theory over in her head. “Mmm….that would work,” she finally replied.

“Ha! Look at us being all ‘Rizzoli and Isles’,” Chrissie laughed as she clapped a friendly hand on Bianca’s shoulder.

“I’ve never watched a whole episode but isn’t Dr Isles a coroner rather than a forensic investigator?” Bianca asked, her tone deadpan, as she let any other possible insinuation at some sort of similarity drift over her head. It was her turn to tease.

“Yes….and Rizzoli is a detective …..All minor details, Sgt Grieve.”

“And doesn’t Dr Isles wear glamorous dresses and high heels…..not…..” Bianca ran her eyes the length of Chrissie’s work gear so as to indicate the contrast.

“I can do glamorous if I want to,” Chrissie replied a little indignantly, “as you well know…..I just choose to be more practical at work.”

It was true, Bianca had to admit if only to herself, Chrissie did scrub up rather beautifully.

“Besides, they’re both straight and we’re……not,” Bianca added pedantically as she peered closely at the photo, her brain trying to come up with any possible flaws in their current theory.

“Well, to my way of thinking, they’re missing out big time,” Chrissie retorted with a roguish smile, “so stop splitting hairs…you know perfectly well what I meant.”

Bianca turned to Chrissie and gave her an acknowledging smile of her own. Having got her payback, she ceased her teasing there as instructed and refocussed on the business at hand.

It was to be another forty minutes before Chrissie finished going through all the finer details of everything else that had been brought to light through the wonders of forensic science and although there was nothing further to give Bianca immediate optimism, one never really knew what might turn out to be relevant as the case unfolded so it was all dutifully noted.

Finally, Bianca rose from her chair and while she checked that she had all her belongings with her….her phone, car keys, notebook, pen….she thanked her friend for all her help. Chrissie suggested she stay and have a cup of coffee but Bianca politely declined the offer, explaining that she really needed to head back to the office and share the information that she had already gleaned with her team.

As the two women left the office and headed towards the elevator, the conversation reverted to a more personal tone…inquiries about friends they had in common, plans for the weekend and such.

Just as the doors to the elevator opened and they were about to step in, Chrissie stopped in her tracks and grabbed Bianca’s forearm, effectively stopping her too.

“Wait here,” she said, “I’ll be back in a minute.” With that, she hurried towards her office, returning only a few moments later as promised.

“I almost forgot these,” she said as she handed Bianca a large brown envelope and a clear, plastic zip-lock bag with several round, blue tablets in it, each tablet sealed in its own individual bag which was tagged and labelled. “According to the forensic tests, all the tablets have the same chemical make- up and are from the same batch….the full report is in the envelope.”

“Thanks a lot,” Bianca replied gratefully as she took possession of the items. “I owe you one.”

The elevator doors opened once again. This time the two women entered.

“You most certainly do,” Chrissie teased as she pushed the button for the ground floor and the doors closed, “and to return the favour you can agree to have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

Bianca’s eyes searched Chrissie’s face as she tried to determine if the invitation was merely one of friendship or if there were more serious intentions to it.

Possibly reading Bianca’s thoughts, Chrissie said, “Relax, Grieve, it’s not a ‘date’. We haven’t seen each other for ages and a lot has happened. I’d like a chance for us to catch up somewhere away from the job, that’s all….oh, and to find out if this Janet King has good intentions with my dearest friend and that she isn’t just toying with your heart.”

Bianca felt her cheeks flush with colour at the mention of Janet’s name.

The elevator landed smoothly on the ground floor and the doors glided open.

“Sure. Why not?” Bianca replied more confidently as they stepped out into the reception area where they had first met up almost two hours earlier.

“Why not, indeed? Half past seven at Odie’s down at The Rocks?”

Bianca nodded her agreement.

Odie’s was a small, casual-style restaurant squeezed in amid the myriad of more upmarket places for fine dining on Sydney’s waterfront. Its menu was always an eclectic mix based on what produce was readily available at the time and its mish-mash of interior furnishings appears to be have been chosen on that same basis. As testament to its popularity, while other such establishments had come and gone, Odie’s had been in the same place for over fifteen years. It had been a favourite haunt of theirs in the past.

 “I can pick you up if you like. Are you still in your aunt’s old house in Mitchell Street?”

“Thanks,” Bianca replied, “but it’s probably best that I take my own car, you know, in case I get called out with work and I have to leave urgently.”

Bianca didn’t want to be left to the mercy of Chrissie for a ride…. _Who knew when and where they would end up during the night, if she did?_ …. and although Chrissie had been to her house many times when they had been together, it felt odd to contemplate her being there now.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Chrissie said as they approached the front doors.

Cars were beginning to arrive and were steadily filling the employee car park. People, many of them in groups of twos and threes, walked towards the entrance ready to start their day.

 After a quick embrace, Chrissie opened the door for Bianca.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” were the words that followed Bianca out into the carpark.

oooOooo

The remainder of Bianca’s day was largely spent in meetings, the first being with her team, bringing them up to speed on the findings from the forensics testing and subsequently overseeing a plan of follow-up investigations. She wanted to know all of Michael Collins’ movements on the night he was taken to the warehouse and murdered and, in particular, if anyone had seen him with a large-ish, ginger-haired man who walked with a limp favouring his right leg. Was this man known to anyone in the places Collins liked to frequent?

Once the police officers in her team had been dispatched for the afternoon, each pair delegated a task, Bianca made her way to her Superintendent’s office where again, she went through the facts as they stood so far, the actions that were being taken and likely theories as to what had occurred.

By late afternoon Bianca’s head was swimming with the details of the case and she was feeling frustrated that nothing was falling into place. She knew that when she felt like this it was best she cleared her head by distracting herself with something totally unrelated and leaving the problem for her subconscious to mull over.

Her first thought was of Janet. With both women keeping long hours due to the demands of their respective jobs and then, to make matters worse, first Emma and then Liam falling ill, they had not seen each other all week and Bianca found herself missing Janet terribly. She decided that with there being little else she could do to further the investigation until the next day when hopefully somebody on her team had discovered new information, she would text Janet and ask if it she could drop in a bit later in the afternoon.

While she waited for an answer to her text, Bianca sat at her desk, opened the large, brown envelope she’d been given and read through the brief report on the analysis of the tablets she’d asked Chrissie to do for her. As Chrissie had told her, all of them had identical chemical composition. _How had tablets from the confiscated haul ended up in the boot of Michael Collins’ car and at Janet’s crime scene?_

Bianca located her partner, Senior Constable Josh Anderson who was relatively new to Bianca’s team. She’d taken it upon herself to have him as her partner until she was confident that he had the dedication and initiative it took to do the job and that he was a good fit. Once found, she instructed him to make the necessary calls and fill in the necessary forms so they could arrange a revisit the following day to the facility where the drugs they had recently seized were being stored. She wanted to reassure herself that all was as it should be and nothing had been tampered with.

oooOooo

When the buzzer to her front door sounded, Janet was sorely tempted to ignore it and hope that whoever it was would go away for she had only just put the children to bed and was now looking forward to some desperately-needed time to herself. Having been home for most of the week taking care of her two sick children, she had neither the strength nor the will to entertain company, however, when she did eventually answer the door her mind changed rapidly as the sight of Bianca standing there smiling at her, instantly brought a genuine smile of pleasure to her own face.

“Don’t you answer your text messages anymore?” Bianca teased as she waited to be invited in.

“What?... Oh, sorry….I’ve been a busy with the twins and haven’t had time to look at my phone this afternoon…I’m not even sure where it is at the moment.”

“I sent a text message but when you didn’t answer….well, I thought I’d drop by anyway….Is that okay? ….I can go if you’re busy…”

“Of course, it’s fine,” Janet replied hastily as she stepped aside, “come in….you know you’re welcome any time…..you don’t have to ask.”

As Bianca stepped across the threshold, she drew a frazzled-looking Janet into her arms and hugged her, both women welcoming the comforting nearness of the other after almost a week-long absence. Bianca could sense the tiredness in Janet’s body as they embraced. She then went to kiss her but Janet dropped her head and pulled back a little.

“Sorry….but it’s probably best that we play it safe for now,” Janet said apologetically, “there’s a distinct possibility that I may be coming down with the same thing the kids and my mother have had and, trust me, you don’t want it.”

Bianca settled for placing a chaste kiss on Janet’s forehead.

“How are the twins?” she asked as she released Janet from her arms and followed towards the living area, stopping on the way to remove her jacket, fold it and hang it over the back of a dining room chair. She noted with some annoyance a small coffee stain on the cuff of her white shirt so she undid the buttons and folded up both sleeves. From the files and papers Bianca could see sprawled across the dining table, Janet hadn’t let the possibility of illness or the caring for two sick children interfere with her staunch work ethic.

“They’re on the improve at last,” Janet replied as she collapsed onto the sofa, “the fever seems to have broken and they’re regaining their appetite…..I’ve just put them to bed.”

Bianca had made her way to the sofa as well where she moved the pillows and blanket that had been used by the twins and sat herself beside Janet.

“And your mother?”

“She’s over the worst of it too or so she tells me but I’ve insisted that she rests up and stays at her flat until everybody is fully recovered….she doesn’t need a second bout of it and nor do we,  although chances are she’ll do as she pleases…..Fortunately, there’s been an adjournment in the Bradshaw trial until Wednesday so I’ve been able to work from home and take care of the kids.”

“That was good timing……How are _you_ holding up?” Bianca asked as she watched with concerned eyes as Janet raked a hand wearily through her tangle of blonde hair. Her face was paler than usual and there was a hint of dark circles beginning to form beneath each eye. “You look worn out.”

“I’m fine,” she replied unconvincingly.

Bianca moved closer and gently pressed the back of her hand against Janet’s forehead.

“You don’t feel hot. I don’t think you have a fever.”

“I’m probably just a bit overtired from looking after two sick, cranky children….Nobody’s had much sleep here for the last two nights.”

“Have you eaten today?”

Touched by her concern, Janet gave a weak smile and stroked Bianca’s cheek lightly with her fingertips. It was so tempting to kiss that lovely mouth but it was best she didn’t.

“Not since breakfast,” she replied coyly. She’d spent a good part of the last two days convincing the twins that they needed to eat to keep their strength up but she had neglected to follow her own advice.

Bianca stood up and moved the pillows into place at one end of the sofa.

“Put your feet up and rest while I make you something to eat,” she instructed.

Janet had been about to object…to tell her not to worry…. but then thought better of it. She _was_ hungry and it _was_ okay to let someone else take care of her from time to time, besides, she quite liked it when Bianca fussed over her so instead, she stretched her legs along the sofa, plumped the pillows to her liking and lay down.

Satisfied that her instructions were being followed, Bianca left Janet to rest as she disappeared into the kitchen.

After searching the pantry and fridge for inspiration but coming up with a limited selection of choices….a trip to the grocery shop was going to have to be a top priority….Bianca threw together  a basic meal and returned to the living room where she found that Janet had nodded off to sleep. Although reluctant at first to disturb her, Bianca thought it best that Janet had some food inside her before retiring for the night.

Janet had only just drifted off when she felt her shoulder being gently shaken and a hushed voice encouraging her to wake up.

“Janet, have something to eat first then you can go to sleep.”

As she ran her hands across her face to brush away the sleep and gradually drew herself back up into the sitting position, Janet found, sitting on the coffee table in front of her, a plate with two egg cups, each holding a boiled egg with the top already cut off them exposing the soft, golden yolk as well as toast cut into strips. Beside the plate was a glass of orange juice.

“There wasn’t much in the fridge….”

“I haven’t had a chance to shop…sorry,” Janet apologised groggily as she was not yet fully awake.

“My Aunt Sophie used to make this for Graham and me when we were sick and I do the same for my nephew and niece when they’re not feeling great…..two boiled eggs and ‘soldiers’…you probably could have managed without the toast cut into strips but I’d done it before I realised….habit.” A flush of embarrassment coloured her cheeks. “I was going to make you a cup of tea but then I remembered….”

“Juice is fine…perfect…it’s all perfect,” Janet said sincerely as she rewarded Bianca’s efforts with an appreciative smile and an affectionate squeeze of her hand. “Thank you.”

Suddenly Janet was feeling almost faint with hunger. She picked up a strip of toast and dipped it eagerly into the runny yolk.

It has been a long time since she’d allowed anyone to take such basic care of her and yet it was almost with a sense of relief that she put herself in Bianca’s safe hands. She was constantly amazed at how easily Bianca had become a significant part of her life and, unlike almost every other relationship she’d ever had, how uncomplicated and honest this relationship they had appeared to be.

“How was your day?” Janet asked as she dipped a second ‘soldier’ into her egg.

“Busy as usual…. the Michael Collins case….it’s a bit frustrating right now.”

“Frustrating?”

“Yes, but it usually is at the beginning of an investigation…..I picked up some of the forensic evidence this morning which will be useful but at the moment we have no one to pin it to….the CCTVs at the warehouse weren’t in operation….nobody heard or saw anything unusual in the area at the time….and we haven’t been able to account for all of Collins’ movements on the night….but we’ll keep working on it….it’s early days….something will turn up…..I see you’re not exactly whiling away your hours at home.” Bianca nodded her head to indicate the files spread across the dining table.

“I needed to check some details….there’s a couple of things that don’t seem to fit into the picture.”

“Oh, that reminds me…..Chrissie tested those tablets and, as I suspected, they’re from the batch that we seized which only serves to muddy the waters even further.”

With her glass of juice halted halfway to her mouth, Janet turned to look at Bianca.

“Chrissie? Your ex, Chrissie?....I didn’t know you were still in touch,” she said, deliberately trying to keep the surprise from her voice.

It dawned on Bianca that in the brief time she’d spoken to Janet that week, mostly via phone calls and text messages, she hadn’t mentioned the coincidental meeting up with her ex-partner. Bianca put this oversight down to the lack of opportunity rather than any deliberate omission.

“We haven’t been….not for almost three years but she turned up at the crime scene on Sunday….” Bianca cleared a slight tightness in her throat with a small cough before she went on. “She’s a forensic investigator, Dr Christine Williams….she owns the company that the AFP outsourced to work the Collins case and she happened to be the investigator on the job.”

“A forensic scientist _and_ she has her own company…. Impressive.”

“She…it is.”

Janet finished scooping out and eating the last of the second boiled egg and drank the remaining mouthful of juice before sagging back into the soft leather of the sofa. She was tired but feeling considerably better for having eaten.

“Why don’t I take you up to bed….”

Janet gave her an ever-so-slight smile as her blue eyes met Bianca’s in an expression that immediately questioned her intentions.

“No, I’m not angling for… anything,” Bianca replied innocently, reading the look. “You’re exhausted….you need to sleep. l can stay for a few hours if you like and keep an eye on the twins while you get some rest….that’s all I’m suggesting.”

Those words played like sweet music to Janet’s ears as it seemed an eternity since she’d been allowed the chance of a decent amount of sleep. The deprivation had left her tired and emotional and she only just managed to prevent the tears that welled in her eyes from falling as she leant over to kiss Bianca’s cheek then whisper, “If I wasn’t so exhausted I’d be disappointed.”

Both women stood. Bianca collected Janet’s used plate and glass.

“I’ll take these into the kitchen and clean up then I’ll come up,” she said, thinking to give Janet some time to perhaps shower if she wished and tuck herself in. Janet encircled Bianca loosely in her arms and gave her cheek one more appreciative peck before heading upstairs to her bedroom.

It was only a matter of ten minutes before Bianca had finished the tidying up and was making her way up the stairs also. She first checked in on the twins to see that all was well. Finding them fast asleep, she went those few extra paces along the hallway to the main bedroom. From the doorway, Bianca peered in at the figure already tucked beneath the covers, fully aware of the palpable throb of both love and desire that the sight created within her. Janet lay on her side, her head nestled into the pillow, her eyes shut. With the chance to put aside her responsibilities and rest, the tension and tiredness of her week had lifted, leaving her features more relaxed than Bianca had seen them all evening.

Not wanting to disturb her, Bianca had been about to retreat when Janet, sensing the extra presence, opened her eyes and looked over towards her.

“Please stay,” Janet said, “I haven’t seen you all week.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” was the reply as Janet moved over to make more space on the bed.

In only a few strides, Bianca was sitting up beside Janet, her back resting against the propped-up pillows and her legs stretched along the length of the bed. Janet moved in closer, her left arm coming to rest across Bianca’s thighs and her head settled in Bianca’s lap.

“Have you heard any more from Andy about Lina and the baby?” Bianca asked.

“Andy phoned yesterday afternoon. Lina’s recovering well and is home tomorrow…The doctors are happy with the baby’s progress….a baby girl, by the way….but she’s going to need to stay in hospital for another week at least.”

“That’s a relief….it would have been so awful for her to have reached this far only to be taken from them now …..although, I guess they’re not completely out of the woods yet but it does sound positive.”

“And speaking of babies…”

Those unexpected words drew a quizzical look from Bianca.

 “Deborah, Ash’s sister, is due to have her baby in the next month or so,” Janet explained, “I hope it’s less traumatic than Lina’s situation.”

“You gave her the last of Ash’s embryos? And it worked? She’s pregnant? You didn’t tell me…”

Janet nodded. “Looks like we both forgot to mention something significant.”

“Touché,” was Bianca’s only response to the slight dig before asking, “Are you and Deborah okay?”  

Bianca combed her fingers gently through Janet’s hair as she contemplated the difficulty of such a situation; Janet’s desire to do the right thing by Deborah and Ash but also having to fight the feeling that she was giving away the most intimate part of her relationship with Ash, nevertheless, she thought Janet had made the right decision.

“I think so. Yes, we’re good…..It was the right thing to do and what I had intended to do all along….I just needed time to get used to the idea and not feel like my hand was being forced…..What about you and Chrissie? How was that after not seeing each other for so long?”

Bianca hesitated as she gave her response some thought. _“How had it been?” she asked herself. “How did she feel about it…about Chrissie?” She had genuinely been pleased to see her. They had never really harboured any ill-feelings towards each other when they had split up as they had simply done what needed to be done and what was best for both of them at the time. There was no doubt that Chrissie, with her stunning looks and sharp intelligence, was as attractive as ever but Bianca could honestly say that she felt none of that old spark that used to be there when they were together. That fire, Bianca was content to admit, was now well and truly extinguished._

“It was okay…… a surprise…..It hadn’t even occurred to me that our paths would cross through work but, yes, it was good….we’re fine. She’s done really well for herself and she seems happy.”

“Does she have a partner?”

Bianca stopped to think.

“I’m not sure….I didn’t ask and she didn’t mention anyone….she knows about you.”

The two women lay together, mulling over their own private thoughts in silence for a moment or two until suddenly Janet pulled away from Bianca’s lap, threw back the covers and was about to leap out of the bed.

“What’s the matter?” Bianca asked, grasping Janet’s arm and holding her back.

“I’ve left my work files spread out on the table downstairs. They need to be put away. I don’t want anyone seeing those photos, especially the children.”

Bianca casually swung her legs off the bed and stood up.

“You stay here and sleep,” Bianca said calmly as she stepped around to Janet’s side of the bed and placed a kiss on her forehead, “I’ll put the files away.”

Janet used her warmest smile to show her gratitude as she relaxed back on the bed and pulled up the covers once again.

After another quick check on the twins, Bianca returned downstairs to do as she had promised.

At first glance, the task of sorting the mass of paperwork that covered almost the entire surface of the table appeared to be a daunting one, however, Bianca soon picked up that Janet had been working through the files quite methodically. As well as Janet’s notes, there was a pile for police reports, witness statements, the defendants’ accounts of their actions, crime scene photos and so on…..Bianca carefully sifted through and placed each one in its correct folder, resisting her natural investigative urge to read through what had happened despite the unsettling feeling she had that there was a link between this case and the one she was working on. Her notion was further cemented when she was shuffling the crime scene photos back into their file….photos of the victim floating face down in a swimming pool, macabrely comical with his bloated features and strange attire; photos of the tiny, blue pills left behind on the coffee table,  the tumbler that contained remnants of scotch and the bottle it came from, all of it wiped free of fingerprints which instantly signalled that it wasn’t the accident it was intended to look like as there had to be somebody present to wipe away the prints. The person responsible, Bianca concluded, was an amateur who had watched too many TV crime shows. At the bottom of the pile was a photo of a single shoeprint. Bianca held it up and scanned it closely. It was very much like the one Chrissie had shown her earlier that day from the warehouse…the same tread and the same distinctive wear pattern.

Bianca hurriedly put the other photos away in their correct file but kept this one aside for further perusal. She then placed all the files in the boxes that were under the table, securing the lids so the children wouldn’t be tempted to open them.

By this stage, she could have quite easily murdered a cup of Earl Grey or even some English Breakfast tea but with there being no tea of any denomination in Janet’s pantry, Bianca settled for pouring herself a glass of wine which she took, along with the photograph, into the living room and made herself comfortable on the sofa once again. As she sipped the fruity dry white she studied the photo more carefully. Of course, she’d have to compare it to the other photo for the sameness to be unequivocal but in her own mind she held no doubt. _What did this mean? Who is this person? What part did he play? Did it tie the two cases together, confirming her gut feeling?_ Bianca desperately wanted answers to her questions but she knew better than to go through Janet’s files, at least without her permission or presence and she wasn’t prepared to wake her for either. It was difficult to resist the temptation but she resigned herself to waiting until the next morning. Patience had always been her forté.

Once she’d drained the last of the wine from her glass, Bianca returned the photo to its file which she set handily on the top of the stack. She reluctantly fitted the lid back onto the box and slid it under the table.

In an effort to put the puzzle out of her mind for now, Bianca resettled herself on the sofa, the plan being to distract herself with some television for an hour or so then, after a final check on the children as offered, head home to her own bed.

oooOooo

It was the sound of canned laughter that jolted Bianca back to consciousness several hours later. She sat up with a start, vaguely aware that she wasn’t in her own bed or even her own house.  As she reorientated herself, she realised she was still at Janet’s place and still on her sofa. She must have fallen asleep while watching the television. _What time was it?_ She reached for her phone and through bleary eyes made it out to be 3:52am.

Slowly Bianca dragged herself up off the sofa, stretched the stiffness from her limbs then ‘danced’ her way across the room, the brick floor cold beneath her bare feet, and up the stairs to check on the children.

Emma was sleeping soundly and didn’t stir even as Bianca put a hand lightly to her forehead to ensure the fever hadn’t returned. However, Liam tossed and turned in his sleep and as Bianca sat on the edge of his bed, he awoke. Fortunately, a trip to the bathroom and a small drink of water was all that was needed to calm him and he was soon back in his bed and fast asleep.

Out in the hallway once more, Bianca padded silently towards the main bedroom. She’d promised herself that she would look in and see that all was well and then leave but, with the lateness of the hour….. by the time she drove home and made it to her bed, her alarm would be telling her it was time to get up again….. common sense and the temptation of both a comfortable bed and lying next to her partner told her it was okay if she stayed. Stealthy as a cat, she tiptoed into the bedroom, discarded her trousers and, taking great care not to wake Janet, crawled into the empty space beside her. As she lay there waiting to be caught in sleep’s net, she pondered the months of anguish she’d spent wondering if she would ever see this woman again, blaming herself for letting the twins come so close to danger and wishing she’d done things differently. Now, as the warmth of Janet’s body…. so close, so lovely...radiated towards her, her conscience was eased and the ache that had been in her heart had turned to joy.

oooOooo

Unlike the harsh awakening of earlier, it was the soft touch of Janet’s lips on her cheek, her chin and finally her mouth that enticed Bianca from her dreams.

“What happened to playing it safe?” Bianca asked when Janet’s mouth eventually relinquished her own.

“I’m feeling a lot better after a good night’s sleep,” Janet answered, “and I think the danger has passed.”

Noting the glint in Janet’s eye, Bianca replied, “I’m not so sure it has.”

Proving Bianca’s point, Janet dipped her head slightly and kissed the hot, smooth skin of Bianca’s neck, following it with more kisses down the exposed ‘V’ of her chest, all the while her fingers tugging on the last few, fastened buttons of Bianca’s shirt. On freeing them, Janet opened the shirt front more fully, kissing the newly-exposed swell of each breast as her fingers slipped beneath the bra and stroked them, teasing the tips to hard nubs. Bianca shivered with pleasure at the touch of those warm fingertips and that wet mouth.

Desiring the heat, the heartbeat, the arousal of Bianca’s flesh pressed against her, Janet sat up and hastily removed the t-shirt she had worn to bed. Bianca took her cue, shedding her few scant items of clothing also. They then both laid themselves down at each other’s side, Janet’s cool, blue eyes fixed on Bianca’s face as though trying to impress every detail into her memory until Bianca, dipping her hand into the mess of blonde hair, drew their mouths together in a deep and passionate kiss.

At Janet’s silent request, Bianca’s thighs parted as she opened herself to the tantalising touch of her lover’s fingers, her hips almost immediately responding to the rhythm of their caress, long slow strokes to begin with as Janet delighted in the wetness that greeted her, but as the need grew more urgent and at Bianca’s begging, the pace quickened until it became too much, finally breaking down in a confusion of thrusting and thrashing, ecstasy and exhilaration.

As they eventually eased themselves apart, their skin slick with sweat, their breathing hard and their hearts still racing, there came a cry from the children’s bedroom cutting short their indulgence in any post-coital pleasure.

“I’ll go,” Bianca offered but Janet already had her shirt back on and was heading for the hallway albeit on legs that were a little wobbly.

It was nearly fifteen minutes before Janet returned to the main bedroom where she saw Bianca lying on her back beneath the covers with her head on the pillow and an arm resting across her forehead, looking as though she wasn’t well.

“What’s wrong?” Janet asked, her voice full of concern.

“I think I’ve got a fever,” Bianca groaned.

Janet was instantly on the bed and by her side with her hand placed on Bianca’s forehead.

A puzzled expression crossed her face.

“You don’t feel like you have a temperature…..Are you sure….”

It was then that she noticed the broad smile that beamed on Bianca’s face.

“You little sh…..”

Before Janet could fully admonish her, Bianca had put her hands to Janet’s face and drawn her into yet another deep and heady kiss.

oooOooo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

Janet buzzed from bench to pantry to fridge, a woman on a mission, as she busily filled bowls with cereal then topped them with milk while simultaneously pouring out cups of juice. Meanwhile, her two ravenous children waited impatiently at the table where they occupied themselves by singing their favourite song. Unfortunately, they each had a different favourite song and their voices grew progressively louder as one tried to drown out the other.

The twins had woken up that morning full of renewed health and energy and were keen to be out playing with their friends at kindy. It had been almost an entire week since they had last been out of the house and it was clear they were feeling more than a little claustrophobic. Convinced that they were fully recovered from their recent illness, Janet had caved to their persistent begging and said they could go, although she had managed to bargain an early pick up time. This meant that sandwiches and snacks also had to be prepared so once breakfast was delivered, Janet then went about the business of organising the lunchboxes. From the wings, Bianca watched on in wonderment….this scene of domesticity was certainly one that those who faced Ms King’s steely stare across a court room could not even begin to conceive…. at the same time, Bianca filled the jug, located the mugs and tried to keep out of Janet’s way.

With the children now eating their breakfast and the lunches stowed in their backpacks, Janet returned to the kitchen where Bianca presented her with a well-deserved cup of coffee, receiving in return a brief but appreciative kiss for her efforts. The two women then leaned casually, side by side, against the kitchen bench in a comfortable silence as they sipped the life-giving brew; Janet appreciating the temporary serenity that fell over the room, Bianca deciding whether or not to bring up the matter of the photograph of the shoeprint she had seen in Janet’s files.

“Can I ask a favour?” she said apprehensively.

As Janet blew gently across the top of her mug to cool down its contents, she peered over at Bianca. Looking into that lovely face…it’s expression a little anxious but with the hint of a smile….. her immediate thought was, _“Good God woman, you’re so gorgeous you can ask me anything…..anything you like.”_   Janet noticed a slight colouring of Bianca’s cheeks and, for an instant, panicked that she may have voiced her thoughts aloud. Quickly realising she hadn’t….(Maybe Bianca read her mind….She would have to be more careful in future)….. Janet showed a little more restraint as she replied, “Sure. Go ahead. What is it?”

Not one to stand idle for too long, Janet rested her coffee cup on the bench while she popped two pieces of bread into the toaster and prepared to listen.

“Do you mind if I ask you about the Bradshaw case?”

In answer to Janet’s raised eyebrow, Bianca recounted how she had come across the copy of the shoeprint when she was putting away the files for her the previous night…a job which Janet thanked her yet again for doing.  She also explained how, on seeing the print, it struck her that it was remarkably like a print that is significant to her Michael Collins’ case however, they would need to be officially compared and verified by an expert for it to be confirmed that they are indeed from the same shoe worn by the same person.

“Do you think the two cases are connected somehow?” Janet asked as she juggled the hot toast from the toaster to the breadboard and began to spread each piece with a thin layer of butter. Her curiosity was now piqued.

Bianca nodded slowly. “However, I’m not sure exactly _what_ the connection is. There’s the same pills involved in both cases and now this shoeprint showing up at both crime scenes, assuming it _is_ the same print…..This person…this owner of the shoe is somehow connected to both crimes…both victims.”

Janet scooped the flesh from a ripe avocado and mashed some onto each piece of toast. After the addition of some salt and pepper, she plated them and offered a piece to Bianca. The two women once again fell into an absorbed silence as they ate and mulled over the perplexing problem before them.

Finally, Bianca asked, “Does this shoeprint belong to either of the two people you are prosecuting? Forensics tells us we’re looking for a heavy-set male with ginger hair and a pronounced limp favouring his right leg.”

“The man we’re prosecuting is large….tall….190cm maybe….and very fit, muscular…..but he has dark hair and there’s no obvious sign of a limp….so I don’t think he’s your man.”

“That would be too easy,” Bianca muttered mostly to herself before asking, with a touch of desperation, “Could the shoeprint belong to one of the family? Aren’t there sons?”

Janet finished her mouthful of toast before answering.

“Not if you’re looking for ginger hair and a limp. I’m not even sure why that print is even in the file except perhaps to taunt me. It doesn’t fit into the puzzle. The investigators found nothing to connect it to the crime so discounted it as evidence relating to the case early in the piece and yet it’s still there…..”

“Where was it lifted from?” Bianca’s mind, fuelled with coffee and food, was now in full investigative mode.

“Perhaps you should take me in for formal questioning, Sergeant Grieve,” Janet laughed. 

Bianca had the good grace to blush. “Sorry…. It’s just that we need to find this bloke but we’ve come up with nothing but dead ends so far.”

Janet squeezed Bianca’s forearm affectionately to show she was teasing.

“The print was lifted from the soil in the garden next to the front steps,” she answered more seriously, “the automatic sprinkler system there goes on at 8:30pm and switches off at 9:00pm so it had to be made on the night Bradshaw was murdered…. sometime after 9pm.”

“Or early the next morning…. Not one of the paramedics?”

“No, they were all checked out.”

“Where was the wife and the two sons?”

Janet collected the used plates and coffee mugs, took them to the sink and rinsed them as she answered Bianca’s question.

 “Mrs Bradshaw had driven up to the Blue Mountains on the Saturday morning to visit her mother and her ailing father…. she’d taken her younger son with her… apparently it’s a regular venture now that her father is so ill. The other son stayed here in Sydney at a friend’s place. Their alibis checked out.”

Just as the next question was forming on Bianca’s lips, Emma and Liam careered into the kitchen giggling and laughing wildly, each waving about in their hand an empty bowl and cup.

“Don’t run with those please, kids,” Janet said firmly as she pointed to the sink.

The children unceremoniously dumped their used breakfast things (wisely made of plastic) into the sink as directed and then returned to their mother, jostling her and noisily insisting that they were now ready to leave.

At the same time, Bianca’s phone began to ring. Glancing at the screen and seeing it was her work partner, Senior Constable Josh Anderson, Bianca retreated into the quiet of the next room to answer the call although she could still hear Janet’s voice in the background instructing the twins to go upstairs, brush their teeth and grab their hats as she peeled each child from her side.

After a brief conversation, Bianca hung up and joined Janet in the living room where she was doing a final check of the contents of the twins’ backpacks to make sure they had everything they needed.

“I’d better be off,” she told Janet as she indicated vaguely over her shoulder and towards her car, “I have to get into work and before I do that I need to go home and…um…change.”

Janet looked up at Bianca with a slight, lop-sided smile as she finished zipping up Liam’s backpack and then accompanied her to the front door.

“I might contact Andy if he’s back at work and see about having a copy of that shoeprint sent over and perhaps some of the other files…. maybe I’ll find that missing link…. if that’s alright?”

“Sure… Andy will be on leave but I’m certain he can make a call and arrange it for you.”

Before turning to depart, Bianca couldn’t resist placing a tender kiss on Janet’s mouth.

“Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight…as a ‘thank you’ for helping me out?” Janet suggested softly as their lips drew apart, “I’ll finish early so I can pick up the twins from kindy…. that will give me plenty of time to cook up something nourishing.”

Bianca let her hands fall from Janet’s hips and slipped them into her own trouser pockets instead. She rested her chin on her chest, her attention suddenly drawn to the scuff marks on her new boots. She weighed up her choices. She wanted nothing more than to have dinner with Janet but she had promised Chrissie that she would have dinner with her. She could accept Janet’s invitation and make up an excuse to Chrissie but the guilt of having lied would probably play havoc with her conscience and spoil the evening.  Despite having been a part of several undercover operations where the ability to tell a lie with conviction was a necessary skill, lying to her friends was quite a different matter, something she had never been able to do comfortably.

Sensing Bianca’s hesitation, Janet added, “Only if you want to, of course, or if you’re not already busy.”

“I’d love to have dinner with you,” Bianca replied a little awkwardly, “but I promised Chrissie I’d have dinner with her tonight…..I could cancel….I’m sure she’d understand.”

Truth be told, Chrissie probably would accept the situation gracefully and put on an air of casual indifference about it all but Bianca knew that in reality, she would be less than impressed. She also didn’t want Chrissie to assume that Janet had coerced her into cancelling.

“No, don’t cancel….we can do it another night,” Janet answered with as much nonchalance as she could muster.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

Bianca moved in a little closer and reached for Janet’s hands, their fingers entwining lightly, as she whispered, “You do know that I would much prefer to have dinner with you, don’t you?”

Janet gave her a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and tried for a casual tone as she said, “It’s alright…. It’s not like we’ve committed to being exclusive.”

Although it was probably not the intention, Janet’s words stung like a slap to the face.

Bianca crooked a finger under Janet’s chin and tilted her face upwards so that their eyes met. She wanted to see if Janet was being serious. It appeared she was.

“It’s not like that at all, Janet. Chris and I haven’t seen each other in over three years…. we’re catching up like friends do.” Bianca struggled to keep a tinge of exasperation out of her voice. “After all these years, that’s all we are…. friends.”

Bianca paused for a moment to allow her words to sink in then, more softly but no less seriously, she asked, “Do _you_ want to see other people?”

Janet’s eyes lifted abruptly, capturing the sober expression on the other woman’s face. Maybe she _had_ overstepped the mark but she needed to know where she stood before giving herself wholeheartedly to someone once more. The thought of her heart having to suffer a further battering was almost too much to bear.

“No, I don’t but if you…”

“I don’t either,” Bianca replied, cutting her off, “nothing could be further from my mind.”

During the weeks and months when Janet had gone missing in action and had refused to contact her, Bianca would admit to feeling a level of both anger and frustration towards her but still, underlying it all was her love for Janet, something she could neither control nor erase, despite her best efforts at the time to do just that.  Perhaps, if it hadn’t been love, she wouldn’t have felt her absence so keenly and the relationship would have ended there but it was not to play out that way and right now, Bianca desperately wanted to share with this woman the full extent of her feelings for her; she wanted to tell her how often her mind conjured up thoughts of her; how, regardless of whether she was adorned in her judicial robes and ruthlessly dissecting a defendant or running around with the kids in her more casual attire, her hair in that delightfully messy ponytail, the mere sight of her made Bianca’s heart race and that she was oh so entirely in love with her.  However, a sixth sense told Bianca it was too soon and the last thing she wanted to do was scare Janet away. She had been patient thus far, she could wait a little longer.

Instead, she wrapped her arms around Janet’s waist and drew her close once more.

“Why don’t you join us? Chrissie won’t mind. She’d love to meet you…. It’s nothing too fancy, just Odie’s down at The Rocks. We used to…. never mind…. Come. You’ll like it…and Chrissie.”

Janet considered the invitation for the briefest moment then, easing herself out of the embrace, replied, “I can’t. There’s no one I can ask to take care of the twins at such short notice.”

“You said your mum’s well again and the kids seem fine…. you could ask her to mind them… it would only be for a couple of hours…. she’ll be wanting to see them…. It doesn’t have to be a late night.”

Bianca seemed genuinely enthused about her going along but Janet didn’t feel ready to meet the ‘ex’ and possibly face that awkward position of being the redundant third wheel while the other two women shared a conversation familiar only to themselves.

“No, but thank you,” Janet said kindly, grasping Bianca’s hands once again.  “You two haven’t seen each other in a long time, you’ll have a lot to catch up on…. you don’t need me there.” Seeing the obvious disappointment in Bianca’s face, Janet added by way of compromise, “Another time, perhaps, if you like.”

Ready or not, the conversation was brought to a close by the appearance of the twins who raced to their mother’s side, each clinging to a thigh and voicing their eagerness to depart immediately if not sooner.

Bianca bent down slightly and held up the palms of her hands to the twins to which both children responded with a cheeky ‘high five’ and a brief hug as they said good-bye. Then, as she stood up again, she gave Janet a smile but hesitated as she thought about whether it was appropriate to kiss her in front of the twins.

“Kids, go and get your backpacks off the table and my handbag too, please, then we can leave for kindy,” Janet instructed.

Having said the magic word, ‘ _leave_ ’, both children turned and dashed to fetch their things.

Making the most of their few seconds alone, Janet took Bianca’s face in her hands and drew their lips together in the warmest of kisses.

“I’ll call you later,” Bianca said, still slightly breathless, as she then reluctantly turned and headed for her car.

oooOooo`

The sound of light-hearted chatter and laughter emanating from the small meeting room where a squad of eight AFP officers-six constables and two senior constables-were congregated, quickly died down to a near-silence when their team leader, Sergeant Bianca Grieve, entered the room. Hastily, they opened their notebooks, readied their pens and assigned more serious expressions to their faces in preparation for their morning briefing.

Bianca greeted her team cordially but, after one or two words of light banter, was quick to move onto business. Her style of leadership was to set an appropriate example rather than to be the loud, authoritarian sergeant that was the stereotypical image of so many crime shows. She worked hard, was thorough and listened to what her people and others had to say while using the good amount of instinct she had developed over the years as well her investigative intellect to make informed decisions. She delegated well and gave her team members, most of whom had been with her for nearly two years now, credit for having the nous to do their job effectively, ensuring that each one knew that their efforts were valued and their suggestions, no matter how outlandish they may seem at the time, were welcome. As in every other job, each member of her team had their strengths and their weaknesses and Bianca managed them accordingly. That wasn’t to say she was a soft touch. Each of her officers knew better than to screw-up or be lax on Sergeant Grieve’s watch. On the rare occasion it became necessary to hand out any admonishment, she did so in the privacy of her office as public humiliation wasn’t her thing. She willingly recognised that she too had made her fair share of mistakes along the way (and would, no doubt, make more in the future) and preferred that her officers did as she tried to do and that was to learn from their errors rather than harbour resentments. 

Being one of only a few female sergeants in such a male-dominated profession, it hadn’t been an easy career pathway, however, she had persisted and eventually earned their respect and loyalty so any dressing down that Bianca now gave them couldn’t match their own disappointment or the reproaches they gave themselves for letting down both her and the team.

As the shuffling of notebooks and the turning of pages ceased and eyes became focussed on her, Bianca started off the morning’s business with a summary of the information they already had.

“Okay. So far we know that Michael Collins…male, Caucasian, 24 years of age…. resided with his mother, Ms Denise Collins,  in a rented house at 135 Frances St, Lidcombe. He was long-term unemployed. As a teenager, he was known to local police and did 6 months in juvenile detention for car theft and a bit of break and enter….as an adult, he had priors for the same as well as for drug possession for which he served 16 months of a two-year sentence before being paroled on good behaviour.”

It was an all too familiar story…. Life gone off the rails at a young age then confined in detention with other offenders where they made more criminal connections, learnt new tricks and seriously hampered their chances of having any gainful employment in the future.

 “On 18th November 2016, the AFP completed a covert operation where 900kg of amphetamine tablets, mostly ecstasy, were confiscated from a consignment of what was supposed to be tins of cocoa powder brought in from Ecuador.  A week later, on 25th November, local traffic police pulled Collins over for speeding. They deemed that he was acting suspiciously and decided to further search the vehicle, coming up with $100k in cash and a kilogram of ecstasy tabs…these tablets match the ones taken in the haul of the 18th. Collins was charged but made bail until his committal hearing…. Alex, do we know who put up his bail?”

Constable Alexandra (Alex) Foster, one of four females on Bianca’s team, flicked back through her notebook then, finding the appropriate page, answered, “According to records, Collins paid for his own bail.”

“How does a guy like Collins have enough money for bail?” Bianca wondered aloud before assigning Alex Foster the job of filing for permission to access to Collins’ bank accounts and going through the details, looking for any anomalies.

“Two months later, Collins’ committal hearing comes up and the magistrate says that there’s not enough concrete evidence to put him on trial and Collins is free to go.” Bianca tried vainly to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “A week later, at 10am on Saturday 28th January, his body is found by two teenage boys at this warehouse in Bankstown.”

Bianca brought up onto the screen the image of the warehouse. “He’d been bashed to death with a crowbar….” The image changed to an internal view of the warehouse where two areas had concentrated splatterings of blood while a third area was where the body lay. Here, the blood had pooled. On the right-hand corner of the screen a photograph of the crowbar was inset…. “as well as being punched and kicked by a person or persons still unknown to us. We do know, however, that we are that we’re looking for a male, heavy-set with a limp that favours his right leg. He wears size 14 shoes and has ginger hair. This man is most definitely a ‘person of interest’.  Treat him as dangerous. Forensics say that the more than twenty blows Collins received were delivered by someone who is most likely right handed. The fatal blow was this one to the back of the head.” Again, the image on the screen changed to one of an X-ray of Collins’ skull which Bianca used to point out the depression and fracturing of the bone that had finished him off. “The Coroner estimates the time of death as being between 10 and 15 hours before his body was discovered…. tox screens show no sign of drugs in his system and only a small amount of alcohol… not enough for him to be considered intoxicated or to impede his thinking….Do we have any more information that narrows down that time frame a bit?”

Senior Constable Cathy Driscoll, an officer Bianca had come to trust implicitly to do her job thoroughly and one she had specifically requested when the team was being formed…. (As Janet would say, “You don’t forget the good ones”)…. indicated with a small but confident wave of her hand that she had some useful information. Bianca nodded for her to proceed to enlighten them.

“Constable Ludgate and I were able to speak to Collins’ mother yesterday afternoon and get some idea of her son’s movements leading up to his murder…. previous to that she’d been too heavily sedated.” Driscoll took a quick look at her notes to refresh her memory as to what exactly had been said as she wanted to be one hundred percent accurate.  “She’s adamant that her son stayed home the entire day and had slept for most of it…. or, at least, stayed in his room but she’d looked in on him a number of times so he was definitely there. He spent the evening watching television with her up until 8:30pm when he received a call on his mobile which he answered in the next room so she didn’t hear any of the exchange. The next thing she knows he’s out the front door and off up the road on foot. She assumed a mate had called and he was meeting him at the local pub…. that would be the Railway Hotel in Joseph Street….as that’s the direction he took. It’s a fifteen minute walk at best.”

“Did she know who this ‘mate’ might be?” Bianca interrupted.

Driscoll shook her head. “She says she doesn’t know and hasn’t met any of his mates but assumes he has some…. drinking buddies, that sort of thing. We spoke to the hotel staff who were on that evening…. the two owners and one other employee….and they all put Collins at the pub by 8:50pm. He ordered his usual schooner of beer and stood at the bar and drank it….as far as they remember, he didn’t speak to anyone except a short exchange with one of the owners about the football. He then ordered a second drink but before he could even half finish it, he was seen answering a call on his mobile….”

Again, Bianca stopped her in mid-flow.

“Which begs the question, where is this phone now? It wasn’t on his person at the crime scene. Has it been located?”

“Not yet,” SC Anderson answered, “we’re still looking for it…. we’ve determined it must have been a pre-paid phone as we haven’t been able to track down a contract with any of the usual providers.”

“Let’s keep looking for it around the warehouse….it may have been tossed…. bins, neighbouring properties etc.  Cath….”

“Immediately after the call, about 9:20pm, he left the pub and walked up Joseph St about 30 metres when witnesses …. three guys having a smoke out on the footpath…. we’ve taken their names and addresses…..saw a dark blue or possibly black early model Holden Commodore pull up beside him. They didn’t see the driver but they were under the impression that Collins knew whoever it was and seemed pleased to see them…. they appeared to have a quick conversation before Collins opened the door and got in the car which then continued to drive up Joseph St.”

“Anyone get the registration number by chance?”

“Sorry, Sarge,” Driscoll replied regretfully, “but they all agreed that it had a smashed left tail light which might be of some help.”

“Anything else?”

Driscoll shook her head. “That’s it so far, Sergeant.”

“Thanks, SC Driscoll...” Bianca acknowledged her efforts with the quick flash of a smile before continuing. “So we can narrow down the time of death to between 9:30pm and midnight….if we assume they drove straight to the warehouse, that would put it at approximately 10pm which fits the parameters but we won’t take that as a given yet…. so, we’re on the lookout for a dark blue or black, early model Commodore with a smashed rear, left tail light. Constable Ludgate, check the CCTV footage for the A6 for any sign of a vehicle fitting that description on that day. Have we anything else to add?”

Although the meeting continued on for another hour, in that time the only other definite information they had managed to dredge up in the six days since Michael Collins’ death was that the warehouse where it all happened was leased through a local real estate agent on behalf of a company called Commercial Property Holdings and that the property had been vacant for six weeks prior to the murder. Further investigation discovered that this company was solely owned by a Sydney businessman, Sid Delaney.  The relevance of this information was dubious at best although it would account for keyholders to the place.

The remainder of the meeting was taken up with tossing the ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’ of the case back and forth until Bianca, fed up with a lack of solid evidence to work with, told them they needed something more substantial to back up any hypotheses. There were too many questions and not enough answers as yet. They needed to find these answers ASAP. Where is Michael Collins’ mobile phone? Who owns the car he was seen getting into? Is this large, red-haired man with the limp a regular at the Railway Hotel too? How was he known to Collins?”

Knowing this investigation was going to be a difficult one and that a hard slog lay ahead of them, the officers filed out of the room in a more subdued mood than when they had first arrived, each pair with their assigned line of enquiry to pursue. Eventually, it was only Bianca and SC Anderson left in the room. Bianca sat on one of the desktops and ran a hand through her hair as she stared blankly at the whiteboard in front of her with its meagre notes. In her mind, she sifted through what had been covered so far and tried to determine if she had missed anything.

“Cup of coffee, Sarge?”

“Yeah… that would be good…. Thanks, Josh.”

As Anderson left the room, Bianca looked at her watch. She had just enough time to ring Andy Campbell, Lina’s husband and a Detective Inspector with the NSW State Police Force before heading out to reinspect the confiscated drugs. Andy hadn’t worked directly on the Bradshaw case but hopefully he’d be able to help her out as a favour to Janet. She could, of course, go the more formal route but this way would save her at least three phone calls and several bits of paperwork.

oooOooo

When Janet had dropped off the twins at kindy, such was their eagerness to see their friends that she had received only the briefest of hugs at the gate before they turned and bolted for the already busy playground leaving Janet alone to carry their backpacks inside and put their lunchboxes in the fridge.

After a quick conversation with the woman in-charge of the kindergarten to explain that Liam and Emma had been ill the past few days but now seemed fully-recovered, however, not to hesitate to call her if there was a relapse, Janet drove to her office with the optimistic expectation of putting a decent-sized dent in the mountain of work that would have been piling up on her desk during her absence. She had attempted to keep on top of it from home via her laptop and having Tony drop off anything she urgently needed but with having to keep an almost constant vigil on the children, it had been virtually impossible. As much as she loved her twins, their presence, particularly when they were unwell, was not conducive to work and as she prioritised her children over and above her job there was no questioning where her attention must go…. something she may not have done so readily when Ash had been alive.

Here, however, behind the wooden door and glass windows, ensconced in the peace and quiet of her office with all that she needed at her fingertips, Janet was able to immerse herself completely in the tasks at hand.

She’d had almost three hours of uninterrupted concentration when she heard her phone chirp from within her handbag. She quickly extracted it, half expecting it to be someone from the kindy ringing to tell her one of the twins was not feeling well, however, when she looked at the screen, a broad smile stretched across her face. It was a message from Bianca who was wanting to know if she had eaten yet. Janet looked at the time and, realising it was lunchtime already, replied that she hadn’t. Much to her surprise, within a few, short minutes of sending the reply, Bianca appeared at her door, the bearer of food and drinks. In reply to Janet’s puzzled expression, she admitted that she had been on the ground floor of the building with her fingers crossed that Janet hadn’t already had lunch when she’d sent the text message.

Janet closed the file she’d been reading on her computer so that the home desktop was all that appeared and then moved over to where she had three comfortable armchairs arranged around a low coffee table. From the bag she had been carrying, Bianca pulled out a variety of freshly-made sandwiches and placed them on the coffee table.

Rather than take a seat immediately, Janet stopped long enough to draw Bianca’s mouth to her own and show her appreciation for the attentiveness with a kiss. It was over in seconds but it was a kiss that, for all its brevity, still managed to send tingles as far as Bianca’s toes and back up again, not to mention the other, more secretive places that felt its warming effects. Janet was aware that they were fully visible to those in the outer office but she really didn’t care.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Janet asked as she sat down and perused the sandwiches hungrily. She hid an amused smile as she could see that Bianca had been slightly stunned by her boldness.

Finding her equilibrium once more, Bianca took up the seat opposite Janet.

“It’s lunchtime and I was in the area so I thought I’d pick up some sandwiches so we could have a quick bite together,” Bianca explained, “I didn’t interrupt, did I?”

“No, not at all. I was just catching up on some work... but it’s not going anywhere…. Thank you for this,” Janet said as she placed two turkey and cranberry sauce sandwiches on one of the paper plates Bianca had provided.

“My pleasure.”

After putting an assortment of sandwiches on her own plate, Bianca reached back into the bag and pulled out two small bottles of sparkling water and twisted off the caps.

“Time to kick that 5-cups-a-day coffee habit, Miss King,” Bianca announced as she passed one of the bottles to Janet, “this stuff is much better for you…. although, it could send you broke… it costs an arm and a leg.”

Janet laughed as she accepted the drink. It was a laugh that set off a warm hum around Bianca’s heart.

“Cheers,” the two women said in unison as they chinked the neck of their bottles and took a long draw on the contents.

“How’s the investigation going?” Janet asked as she bit into the first sandwich.

“It’s going…” Bianca replied without too much enthusiasm, “we know that, at this stage, the last place Collins was seen alive was in the Railway Hotel and we’ve narrowed down the time of death to possibly about 10pm on the Friday night.  We also know he was picked up by someone driving an early model dark blue or black Holden Commodore with a broken, left tail light …. probably the so-far-mysterious ginger-headed man with the limp who we haven’t been able to track down yet… The ‘how’ and the ‘where’ are clear enough, it’s the ‘why’ and the ‘who’ where we’re light on facts.”

“Did you find out how the drugs that were seized ended up in Michael Collins’ car?”

Bianca shook her head. “Anderson and I went over to the facility this morning and checked every parcel. All the tamper-evident tape is in place and no one suspicious has signed in or out of the facility. Anderson is over there now supervising as they reweigh each package… I rang Andy this morning too and he’s going to arrange to have the notes from the Bradshaw case sent over…. I’ll ask Chrissie to check out the shoeprint…compare it to the one we’ve got.”

Wanting to clear her head of the investigation as best she could for now, Bianca asked, “Did the kids get off to kindy okay?”

Mention of the twins made Janet’s face light up instantly.  “Yeah…. they couldn’t get to their friends fast enough…. They left me standing in their dust…. Actually, when I heard my phone before, I thought the message might have been from the kindy but it was you.”

“Disappointed?”

“No…of course not.” Again, a smile came to Janet’s face as their eyes met for just a second.

After giving Janet time to eat her second sandwich Bianca asked in a voice not much above a whisper, “Are you sure you don’t want to come to dinner with me and Chrissie tonight?”

Janet struggled for a reply. Part of her did want to be with Bianca but on this occasion, she felt that Bianca and Chrissie should be left to catch up without her presence thrust upon them.

“Not this time… I …”

Janet was saved from having to give any further explanation as their conversation was interrupted by a cursory knock on the door and then the gruff figure of Tony, Janet’s boss and sometime babysitter, entering the room.

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realise you were busy,” Tony said as he took in the scene and promptly prepared to walk out again.

“Stay, Tony. We’re just having some lunch. Would you like a sandwich?” Janet offered him the plate with its four sandwiches still remaining but Tony politely declined. “Tony, you remember Bianca…. Sergeant Grieve…. don’t you? From the Royal Commission.”

Tony did indeed remember Sergeant Bianca Grieve. He also remembered how he’d been quietly thrilled when he’d discovered that Bianca and Janet had been ‘co-operating’ on a more personal level. He liked Bianca and thought she was an excellent match for his dear friend and colleague. Her more relaxed nature was a perfect foil for Janet who could tend to be….dare he say it?….a little highly strung at times and she more than matched Janet in the intelligence department. Tony also considered it a good sign that Janet was finally moving on from the traumatic death of her partner, Ash, and was feeling ready to face stuff…life…things once more. Needless to say, he had been bitterly disappointed to learn that when Janet had gone _incommunicado,_ her radio silence had included Bianca. Seeing them here together lifted his spirits although he wasn’t sure in what capacity Bianca was visiting or how they had met up again. He would wring the details out of Janet later.

“I certainly do…. Hello, again,” he said as he thrust forward a hand.

Bianca stood as she and Tony shook hands. Sensing that he wished to talk privately with Janet, Bianca took her cue and said, after a quick glance at her watch, that it was time for her to go back to work.  She began to clean away the plates and paper bags left from their lunch but Janet insisted that she leave it for her to do later as she took Bianca by the hand and walked her the few paces to the door.

“Thank you for that,” Janet said in a hushed voice as they stood at the yet unopened door.

“Any time.”

“Maybe I can return the favour one day…. We can sit in your police car and dodge bullets while we eat,” Janet teased.  It was a comment which drew a laugh and an eyeroll from Bianca. Everyone thought her life was one big shoot out. If only they knew she was more likely to die under the mountain of tedious paperwork and mundane chores her job also entailed than a bullet.

Although both women would have dearly loved to have taken the other in their arms and kissed them, considering the circumstances, they had to settle for a chaste peck to the cheek and a final ‘good-bye’ squeeze of the hand before Janet opened the door and Bianca reluctantly went back to work, a decided spring evident in her step.

 Not being one to mince words, Tony asked, “How long have you two been back together? I’m assuming from that, that you _are_ back together.”

“Mmm…. I’m not sure,” was Janet’s ambiguous reply.

“Not sure?”

“Well, strictly speaking, only a bit over a week but it feels like the we’ve picked up right from where we left off, before I….”

“You mean she took you back straight away even though you didn’t contact her for all those months, no questions asked?” Tony didn’t bother to hide his astonishment.

“More or less,” Janet answered. She could feel her cheeks colour. She knew all too well how fortunate she had been. “We talked. I explained as best I could and she seemed to understand….so, yes, she did.”

Tony scratched his chin thoughtfully but chose to keep any opinions he had about it to himself. “Anyway, it looks promising.”

“Yes…very. Now did you come in here for a reason other than to check out my personal life because, if not, I would like to discuss the Bradshaw case with you?”

Tony realised that the topic of Bianca was now officially closed for discussion.

“What about the Bradshaw case?”

“Did you approve it before it was given to James to prosecute?”

“James went through the evidence and the case the police had built up and ran it by me…It appeared to be very straight forward…”

“On the surface, yes, but I’m not convinced James bothered to scratch deep enough nor the police for that matter and now that it’s in my hands, courtesy of James’ heart attack, I don’t know that it _is_ quite as straight forward as first thought…. I can’t put my finger on it exactly but to me, something just doesn’t feel right.”

“We’re going to need more than your gut feeling, Janet, to justify an acquittal,” Tony replied, the frustration clear in his voice.

As Tony was well aware, more often than not, Janet’s instinct proved to be right…. it was that extra sense made her stand out as a lawyer and had accelerated her to the top of the ranks… but judgements could not be made on instinct alone. Evidence needed to be found to back it up.

“I know…I know…. Look, the case has been held over until Wednesday and Bianca is checking it out as well…. there’s evidence it might be related to one of her cases so Andy is having the files sent over…. Let’s just wait and see what comes up and then we can decide.”

“Alright,” Tony agreed testily, “in the meantime, can you take care of these?”

Tony dropped the small bundle of folders he’d been holding onto Janet’s desk and without waiting for a reply marched out of the room, far more disgruntled than when he’d first walked in which was often how it went.

Janet toyed with the idea of opening the new files, however, she eventually decided they could wait for another day. It was time to go and pick up the twins. Perhaps she’d give Lina a call on the way. Maybe she could ask if it was convenient for her to pay a visit.

oooOooo

Pleased with herself for her fortuitous sighting of a blinking, yellow light indicating a car was vacating its parking spot, Bianca halted and waited patiently for it to pull out then expertly manoeuvred into the empty bay. She was only a five-minute walk from the restaurant where she was meeting Chrissie.

On reaching the waterfront, Bianca weaved her way through the usual swathe of Sydneysiders and tourists that flowed along the pathways of The Rocks area of Darling Harbour on this and most other nights of the week.  As the busy confusion of sights and sounds which made up the popular restaurant district bombarded her senses, she tried not to think about how much more pleasant it would probably be curled up on the sofa next to Janet, perhaps watching some television, chatting or just sipping a glass of wine.

As she approached the front of the restaurant, Bianca heard, above the cacophony of noise, the easily-recognisable voice of her friend calling her name. It didn’t take long for her to spot Chrissie. Indeed, she was difficult to miss as she looked quite spectacular despite her casual attire of skinny, denim jeans faded to a washed-out blue and turned up into a cuff at the bottom, a sleeveless, white shirt and white, lace-up joggers. Unlike the last time Bianca had seen her, her abundance of shoulder- length, strawberry-blonde coils had been set free from their usual ponytail and the light breeze that danced across the harbour took great delight in tossing them around her face.

After their ‘hellos’ and a friendly embrace, the two women were whisked into the restaurant by one of the waiting staff and shown to a table for two. Within minutes of them taking their seats, they were served the drinks they had ordered; a crisp white wine for Chrissie and an ice-cold, light beer for Bianca. Strictly speaking, Bianca was off-duty and could have had something stronger if she cared to catch a taxi home but she found she wasn’t in the mood. Together, they perused the menu that was on the blackboard above the serving area until each came to a decision as to what they would have.

“Your forensic business is really impressive,” Bianca began as they sipped on their drinks and waited for their order to be taken.

“You sound surprised.”

“Do I, because I’m not at all surprised?... Anything you ever put your mind to, you always do better than anyone else….”

This compliment earned Bianca a smile and a modest blush. Bianca should have stopped there but she didn’t.

“I just never imagined you running a business, that’s all… You never seemed keen to stay in one place long enough for that kind of commitment…”

And there it was… the one thing Bianca had been dreading might happen at this reunion and it had only taken a matter of minutes for her to put her foot in it. The notion that Chrissie had valued furthering her career by going off overseas and flitting from one university to the other rather than staying and nurture their relationship had always been a bone of contention between them and the fact that Bianca was completely over it and had been for a long time made it no less sensitive as a topic of discussion. It hadn’t been Bianca’s intention to mention it and she could only think that the worry of it playing on her subconscious had brought it to the fore.

“I’m sorry, Chrissie…. I didn’t mean anything by that… I wasn’t referring to… I’d forgotten about it… over it completely.” Bianca tried in vain to dig herself out of this hole.

Chrissie’s eyes searched Bianca’s face for any signs of harboured malice. On finding none, the corners of her mouth tipped up in a small, forgiving smile as she reached across the table and rested a friendly hand on Bianca’s forearm.

“It’s fine, Grieve…Stop beating yourself up…. Anyway, considering what happened, you’ve every right to think that but things are quite different now, for one reason or another.”

Bianca cocked her head slightly and gave Chrissie a questioning glance but just as she had been about to inquire as to what those reasons might be, the waiter arrived at their table to take their order and the opportunity was gone.

Once he had left, Chrissie jumped in with a question about work, giving her no chance to backpedal.

“Have you been able to track down the owner of that shoeprint we found?”

“Not yet,” Bianca answered with a dispirited sigh and then continued on to explain about the similar shoeprint she had sent over to Chrissie’s office via email that afternoon. Chrissie agreed to look at it the next day for her.

Apart from the initial stumble, the conversation fell into that comfortable drift of familiarity as both women warmed to the evening. In her veritable style, Chrissie had Bianca laughing out loud with her dry wit and wild anecdotes of situations which only Chrissie could find herself in. In turn, Bianca brought her more or less up-to-date on what she had been doing including, by request, how she had met the inimitable Miss Janet King.

Chrissie listened intently to Bianca’s recount, demanding more details when Bianca had not been as forthright as she liked to which Bianca expounded on some aspects but not all, some details were too personal to share.

 Chrissie had to admit to not being impressed with Janet’s lack of communication after the incident with Peta Vickers but she also accepted that being so distraught would have played havoc with Janet’s sense of reason.

“Do you love her?” Chrissie asked in her usual, direct manner.

Bianca hesitated. She knew the answer but she hadn’t admitted it aloud before and she wasn’t sure she wanted anyone but Janet to be the first to know or the first to hear her say it.

“You do, don’t you, but you haven’t told her,” Chrissie surmised from Bianca’s lack of response.

“No, not yet.”

“What are you waiting for? The world could end tomorrow. Tell her.”

“It’s not quite that straightforward,” Bianca argued in her own defence, “I’m not sure she’s ready to hear it…. she’s been through a lot recently.”

“Of course she’s ready…. everyone wants to be loved,” Chrissie insisted with a laugh before adding in a softer, more serious tone, “and, if you ask me, she’s damn lucky to have you… so do it.”

“What about you?” Bianca asked, turning the tables expertly, “Anyone special in your life?”

It was Chrissie’s turn to hesitate.

“Mmmm…. There’s a couple of interested parties, shall we say, but currently nothing’s definite.”

Bianca laughed. “You never were short of options.”

“True,” she agreed in a less-than-modest fashion, “except it’s quality I’m after rather than quantity…. Maybe I’m being too fussy…. Maybe I was spoiled for quality in the past but didn’t appreciate it.” Chrissie’s gaze at Bianca was direct and deliberate and made her a little uncomfortable.

“We did what we had to do at the time,” was all she would say on the matter.

“Perhaps.”

Before the conversation could fall into an awkward silence, Chrissie changed tact.

 “There is one woman who seems promising…. Her name’s Rose Delaney.”

Bianca’s attention piqued at the name.

“Delaney? That’s the second time today I’ve heard that name. Any relation to a Sid Delaney?”

“Daughter…. Sid’s a property developer… a bit of a powerbroker around Sydney but he keeps a low profile. He was a friend of my father… not a close one, mind you, and I’ve never met him but they were friendly and mixed in the same circles. I didn’t know he had a daughter until I met Rose at a party a month or so ago but it’s probably only been in the last couple of weeks that we’ve picked up the pace. I’m not sure yet if I’m in for the long haul but I’m meeting the parents on Sunday evening. Her father is having a party to celebrate one of his land development projects finally passing through Council or some such thing…. Sounds boring so maybe Rose and I can put in an appearance and then make good our escape.”

There was a lull as the waiter appeared to clear away the used plates and utensils and then check if they wanted coffees or desserts. After a short deliberation, they decided to forego both in favour of going for a stroll around the harbour front and asked that the bill be brought instead.

Almost simultaneously, both women offered to pay for the meal but it was Chrissie who won out in the end on the proviso that she would let Bianca pay next time.

As they drained the last of their drinks and prepared to leave, Chrissie huddled a little closer to Bianca and in an amused whisper said, “Don’t look now but there’s a guy at an outside table over by the rail and he is checking you out big time.”

“Which guy?” Bianca asked as she subtly cast her eyes across the crowd, “And he’s more likely to be checking you out.”

“Maybe he’s ambitious and checking us both out, for all the good it will do him…. The tall guy, 30-something with dark hair, jeans, navy T-shirt and black runners….9 o’clock.”

Bianca scoped the seating area just outside the restaurant again and, on finding the man being described, only just managed to hold back a laugh as she informed her friend that he was her work partner, Senior Constable Josh Anderson.

“What’s _he_ doing here?” Chrissie asked. “Spying on his boss?”

“Probably the same as us… catching up with friends.”

“Looks to me like he’s on his own.”

“Maybe he’s waiting for someone…. Come on… I’ll introduce you and you can ask him yourself if you like.”

Once they’d finished paying at the counter, Bianca lead Chrissie over to the table where SC Anderson was seated, drinking his beer and as yet, unaccompanied.  He seemed pleased to see Bianca and greeted Chrissie with a cheery smile and an enthusiastic handshake when they were introduced. There was the usual round of polite banter before they left him to enjoy his drink and the rest of his evening, walking on at a leisurely pace in the general direction of where Chrissie’s car was parked.

“I don’t like your SC Anderson,” Chrissie stated after they were out of earshot. “He's a bit too swarmy. I get a bad vibe from him.”

“He’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, I’ll admit, but he’s fine,” Bianca reassured her. She kept to herself the fact that she too had had that same niggling feeling about him when they’d first met and she had determined that she should keep a close eye on him at work.

Bianca was normally alert to possible danger, however, it was after hours and she was enjoying herself. Her guard was down. Neither woman noticed that since leaving the restaurant, they’d picked up a shadow and were being watched from the other side of the street where there were plenty of dark alleyways to duck into if need be and a convenient absence of streetlighting.

As they reached the building where Chrissie’s car was parked, the women stopped to say their farewells and then went their separate ways. Chrissie headed for the lifts in the carpark while Bianca turned into the street on her right and backtracked the short distance to her car. After observing Chrissie's yellow porsche drive out, their shadow headed back towards the waterfront to eventually merge undetected into the crowds.

oooOooo

Bianca slipped between the coolness of her sheets with a sigh of tired relief. It had been a demanding day and she was exhausted. However, sleep didn’t come as easily as she expected and her thoughts, as she lay there, inevitably drifted to Janet.  After a futile effort to clear her head, Bianca retrieved her phone from the bedside table and checked the time. 11:05pm. Too late to call? Definitely. Maybe she could send her a text message instead. All the while, Chrissie’s words echoed in her head _… “What are you waiting for? The world could end tomorrow. Tell her.”_ Was she simply being sensible in waiting for the right time or was she procrastinating?

While Bianca tussled back and forth between her desire to talk to Janet, to hear her voice, and not wanting to wake her up, Janet lay in her bed with her bedside lamp on as she attempted to read her book but tonight the words and their meaning were determined to remain separate.

Frustrated by her efforts, Janet snapped the book shut and put it on the bedside table, picking up her phone in its place. For possibly the one hundredth time that evening, she checked it for messages but she was disappointed to see that still there were none. She hoped Bianca’s dinner with Chrissie had gone well but a small part of her hoped that it hadn’t gone _too_ well.

Just as Janet had turned off the lamp and settled down to try and sleep, the bright light and quick chirrup from her phone caught her attention. She instantly picked it up and checked the screen, her mouth widening into a smile as she read Bianca’s message.

“Are you awake?”

oooOooo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

Bianca strode through the labyrinth of work stations in the open-plan office that her team shared. At this early hour on a Saturday morning the computer screens still slept, phones were silent and the desks were unoccupied.

Strictly speaking, it was her day off and no overtime had been allowed for in the budget thus far, nevertheless Bianca knew that if she stayed home she would be trapped by her mind endlessly tossing over this latest case so she might as well save herself the frustration and come into work where the necessary resources, human and otherwise, would be at her fingertips.

The only serious contender as a distraction would have been if she had some time with Janet to look forward to but that was not to be. When they had spoken on the phone the previous night and Bianca had hinted at possible plans for a Saturday spent together, Janet had said, albeit reluctantly, that she was already committed to visiting Deborah, Ash’s sister who was due to give birth in the next week or so. Bianca’s only consolation had been that Janet had sounded as disappointed as she was that they wouldn’t being seeing one another.

Bianca stalled in front of the single whiteboard that depicted their progress on the Michael Collins’ case so far and studied it carefully just as she had done many times already in the past week or so, each time willing something to jump out at her, a vital clue that had lay hidden up until now amid the meagre bits and pieces they had managed to gather. The scarcity of evidence wasn’t for the lack of trying. There just hadn’t been much to find or perhaps they were looking in all the wrong places. Was there something… anything in the photos of the crime scene that she was missing which pointed to a likely suspect? Did the body itself, battered and broken as it was, hold possible secrets that had not been discovered? Forensics had pored over every square centimetre of both the body and the warehouse where it was found and while they had yielded up the main clues so far…a few strands of red hair and confirmation on a footprint…. there had been no match on the data base. Until they had a suspect, this information led them nowhere.

Stuck in the top corner of the board was a photo of Collins taken from previous police records when he was well and truly alive. Bianca stared at the lean face that looked much older than its 24 years with its thin, unsmiling mouth, heavy-lidded eyes and sallow skin that bore the pock marks that told of an adolescence spent fighting off severe acne. She wished it would speak to her, enlighten her on what had happened on that fateful evening. Who had called him and presumably picked him up in the dark sedan? ... Why had they killed him?... but, of course, the photo was not forthcoming.

Beside the photo, a circle had been drawn with a question mark inside it.  Bianca had hoped that by now they would have the identity of their one suspect to put in it… the mystery man with the red hair and a limp…but so far, he had evaded them. She knew it was only a matter of time until they found him but her patience was running thin.

Along the bottom of the board were half a dozen photos of known associates of the victim who, one by one, had been discounted as possible suspects for various reasons….two of them were in a New South Wales prison and would be for a long time to come, one had been tracked to an interstate detention facility and one was now residing overseas; another was completely debilitated with emphysema, unable to walk ten metres without the aid of breathing apparatus let alone inflict the injuries that Michael Collins had suffered. The last one had died in a highly-suspect car crash the previous year _._

 _“Live by the sword, die by the sword,”_ Bianca thought to herself as she leaned back on a desktop, her legs stretched out in front and crossed at the ankles, her hands resting in her trouser pockets while her eyes remained fixed on the photo of Collins’ mangled body. How many times in her career had she seen this pattern repeat itself?  Young people, mostly male but with an ever-increasing number of females…teenagers, kids even…who, in a rush of adrenaline or with a need to fit in, made one stupid mistake which threw them into the oncoming path of hardened criminals, true psychopaths, who were all too eager to snap them up as fodder for the those higher up the chain, those who preferred to keep their hands clean, and when they were no longer useful their lives were unjustly cut short by despicable acts of violence. Michael Collins was the typical example. As a 16-year-old with a turbulent childhood, he’d sought acceptance and protection and possibly escape from the mundanity of life within the brotherhood of a small gang who were eventually nabbed for a string of car thefts. Despite it being his first offence, the public were baying for blood and the judge was bound to make an example of them, so he and his fellow gang members were sentenced to time in juvenile detention where, for the sake of his own survival, Michael had quite clearly learnt new tricks and made connections which he maintained once he was released and so began a more serious career of running drugs and helping to launder cash for those at the more lucrative end of the business.  While Bianca’s job was an intrinsic part of this punitive system, she often wished that there was a better alternative available for these young offenders then perhaps her job wouldn’t be so hectic as she chased down the irrevocable criminals.

Down the side of the board was a short list of items they needed to track down which included Collins’ mobile phone, the dark blue/ black early model Holden with the broken left-hand tail-light, the whereabouts of all the sets of keys and keyholders for the warehouse as well as a possible trove of cash Collins might have secreted away and was able to get his hands on at short notice.

The second list contained thoughts on the possible motives for his murder that needed confirming or denying. Had he double-crossed someone? Had he become greedy and skimmed off money from the sales for himself? Did the people he worked for suspect that he had been talking to police? Acts of disloyalty, even when they were only unsubstantiated whispers, were not tolerated and inevitably resulted in swift and definitive retribution. Life was cheap.

Unable to find any answers or come up with any fresh clues to lift her spirits, Bianca turned and made her way towards her office - a space made more cloistered than the rest by the addition of walls that were plasterboard on the bottom half with the top half glazed. The level of privacy provided was able to be adjusted by the opening or closing of a flimsy door and the venetian blinds. Through the glass, Bianca spied two file boxes sitting on her desk. Andy had come through for her and sent over the details of the state police force’s investigation of the Bradshaw case. No doubt, there would be several more on the floor. There was a good part of her Saturday taken care of. She might as well get started.

oooOooo

After a number of attempts involving a considerable amount of backing and forwarding, Janet finally managed to reverse park her car into an available space outside the lowset brick home of Deborah and her husband, Evan. There were several larger spaces free not too much further along the road but she was determined to use this more convenient one. Satisfied now that she was close enough to the kerb but not too close to the vehicle in front or behind her, she engaged the handbrake, turned off the engine and then tipped her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes, letting out a long sigh as she did so.

“Are you alright, mummy?” Emma asked. Even from the back seat she could sense that her mother was wound up.

“Sure, sweetheart,” Janet replied as she undid her seatbelt and turned to give her daughter a reassuring smile. “Now, remember Aunty Deb might be a bit tired …. her body is going through a lot at the moment….so both of you, your best manners and good behaviour today, please. Is that understood?”

“Yes, mummy,” they chorused as they unbuckled themselves from their car seats and opened the car door.

 Janet took a deep, calming breath as she prepared to face the fray.  It wasn’t that she and Deborah were still at odds. The dispute over Ash’s one remaining embryo, although bitter at the time, was water long gone under the bridge.

Soon after the dramatic conclusion to the Royal Commission, Janet had taken the time to consider the fate of the one embryo that was being stored in the facility and had been bequeathed to her as part of Ash’s estate. Initially, Janet had been reluctant to give it up as that embryo represented the last surviving part of Ash that she had left to cling on to but then, of course, she had the twins and they would always be there to remind her of the love she and Ash had shared. In a moment of self-realisation, Janet acknowledged that once again, she had let her innate desire to win or, more accurately, not to lose, dictate her decision-making. In her heart-of-hearts she knew it was selfish to deny Deborah her one and only chance of having the child she and her husband so desperately yearned for…. Ash would have wanted Deborah to have it. Having had this time to contemplate and allay any of her doubts, Janet had willingly given Deborah permission to make use the embryo.

Overjoyed by Janet’s change of heart while acknowledging the difficulty of such a decision, Deborah had been impregnated with the embryo and, despite the freakish odds, it had been successful. She and her husband now anxiously awaited the imminent birth. During this time, the two women had come to the consensus that life was too short and far too precious to hold grudges. Things that had been said and done in the heat of the situation and out of sheer desperation were best put behind them so that once again their relationship was on friendly footings.

Today’s challenge which she had chosen to accept would be the presence of Deborah and Ash’s parents…the twins’ other grandparents…. Nana and Pop Larsson.

“Don’t forget your backpacks, kids,” Janet reminded them as they were about to alight from the car, “and here, take these in to Aunty Deborah and Nana Larsson.”

As the twins waited on the grassy verge, Janet passed them each an impressive bunch of flowers which she had ordered for the occasion. Each bunch was a colourful array of beautifully-arranged native flowers and so big that it made it awkward for the children to see where they were going.

“Careful,” Janet instructed as she stepped from the car and relieved them of their backpacks so they could concentrate on carrying their precious load.

Janet opened the front gate and sent them ahead.

“Don’t run…. take it slowly,” she urged as the eager troupe negotiated the path that led to the front door.

Janet didn’t dislike Max and Janice Larsson. In fact, quite the opposite was true. She adored both of them. They were honest, intelligent, down-to-earth people and as unlike her own parents as it was possible to be in most ways, the most obvious being that after 49 years they were still together and, from all appearances, were very happy.

When she had first met Ash, Janet would often find herself feeling envious of the warmth with which she spoke of her family and her experiences of growing up. Then, when the relationship had developed enough that Ash wanted to introduce her to her family, Janet had been taken aback by the ease with which she found herself drawn into their close-knit circle and the affection they unquestioningly bestowed upon her right from the outset. She didn’t have to prove herself to them, there was no probationary period. It was simply enough that their daughter loved her and so they would too.  

As her relationship with Ash became more serious, Janet soon worked out that the Larssons had a very different measuring stick for success than that which existed in her own home. In the Larsson household, it didn’t matter what your job was, what you were studying or what you were doing with your life as long as you were happy doing it and that you did it with compassion, care and enthusiasm. It was a vast contrast to her own situation where success was measured by your position, the power you wielded over others and the money you earned. Growing up, Janet had struggled every day to find some way of proving herself worthy of her parents’ love, a commodity which they handed out sparingly. Her father had been particularly miserly with it and then, when she was seventeen, he had withdrawn it altogether when he had chosen to simply walk out of their lives.

The Larssons, however, handed their love out freely and in copious amounts, a practice Janet had made a conscious effort to continue with the twins as she now fully understood the intrinsic and unconditional love you could have for your child. She was also aware that that was the way Ash would have wanted it too.

Like Janet, when Ash had been murdered her family had been inconsolably grief-stricken by the senseless act of revenge, however, they had rallied together and called on each other for support and comfort. Janet was considered part of the family and as such they had extended their support to her also but, burdened by the guilt she carried, Janet did not feel entitled to their consoling words or actions. She couldn’t face them knowing that the bullet that had killed Ashley Larsson…their daughter… was intended for her. She would have to go it alone.

Many sessions of counselling later along with the support of a close friend or two with whom she had come to entrust her more intimate feelings, Janet was gradually able to recognise and begin the task of dealing with the emotional fallout of Ash’s death. She eventually came to realise that no amount of beating herself up over what had happened or why it happened would return Ash to her rightful place, that being by Janet’s side as her partner and co-parent of their children. For her own sake and, more importantly, for the sake of Emma and Liam, she knew that she needed to move forward, which for the most part, she had succeeded in doing, small steps some days, larger steps on other days until she’d arrived to where she was now able to consider the possibility of loving again and sharing her life with someone other than Ash. However, it was in situations such as today, when faced with the full force of Ash’s family with all their kindness and generosity, that it became extremely tough to fight off the guilt which threatened to seep through once more and see her progress take a backward step.

Janet leaned over the flower-bearers and pressed the doorbell. They listened to its ring echo inside.

As the door was opened to them and Deborah appeared in the doorway, Liam immediately pushed forward the bunch of flowers.

“Here, Aunty Deb, these are for you.”

“Thank you, Liam,” Deborah replied as she accepted the gift and took the time to admire them before adding, “They’re beautiful.”

She scruffed his mop of fair curls while, at the same time, giving Janet an acknowledging smile.

“These are for Nana Lars,” Emma piped up, not wanting to be left out of the equation.

“They’re beautiful too. Why don’t you come in and give them to her…..she’s in the kitchen…Pop’s there too and they can’t wait to see you.”

With those words, the children charged up the hallway as fast as they dare leaving Janet and Deborah in their wake.

Mr and Mrs Larsson had lived most of their married life in Sydney, however, not long before Janet had fallen pregnant with the twins they had decided upon a seachange and had moved further northwards along the New South Wales coast to the small, seaside town of Yamba. On hearing the news of Janet’s pregnancy, they bemoaned the timing of their move but they had already sold their house and purchased a new one so the shift was a done deal.

 When Emma and Liam were born the Larssons had come to Sydney for an extended stay to see their new grandchildren. The twins were their first and their arrival was occasion for much celebration and doting. The next time they returned, however, was for a far less joyous reason. As soon as they had been given the news of Ash’s death, they had driven straight to Sydney where they had stayed with Deborah and her husband for almost two months before Deborah felt confident that they would cope and she was willing to let them return home.

In that time, they had seen Liam and Emma on a regular basis but in the two years since returning to Yamba there had been only one short visit, a five-day stopover prior to Janet taking the twins on an overseas holiday. Nevertheless, they had fond memories of their grandparents and were excited to see them again.

“How are you?” Deborah asked as she leaned over and kissed Janet’s cheek.

“I’m fine….good,” Janet answered, hugging Deborah as best she could, “What about you? Not long to go now. I bet you and Evan are excited.”

Deborah rolled her eyes.

“Excited…nervous…tired…. anxious…..all of the above.”

“Everything will be fine….you’re healthy, the baby’s healthy,” Janet said, giving Deborah’s forearm a comforting rub.

“I know all that but I can’t help but feel a little frightened that it might all go horribly wrong at the last minute,” Deborah explained as she and Janet walked along the hallway towards the kitchen.

“It’s okay. It’s perfectly natural….to be frightened, I mean,” Janet reassured her.

The words echoed a lesson that had taken her a long time to learn and she had only come to recognise its truth after a lot of work on her counsellor’s part and much self-reflection. Even now, Janet couldn’t say she was competent at putting it into practice. Previously, in Janet’s world, you never admitted your fears out loud. You kept them close to your chest and dealt with them the best way you knew how but always on your own.

“I won’t lie to you and say it’s fun but it’s definitely worth it in the end,” Janet continued with an affectionate smile as she recalled to herself the nurse placing Liam and Emma in her arms moments after they had been born.

Once they made it as far as the kitchen, Janice Larsson, who was arranging one of the bunches of flowers in a vase with the help of Emma, left what she was doing and made a bee-line for Janet, enveloping her in a warm hug once she reached her.  It was the type of hug Ash would often give her, one that made you feel truly loved.

“How are you going, love?” she asked then added in a whisper to Janet’s ear, “I think about her every day.”

“Me too,” Janet whispered back while wondering to herself how they would feel if they knew that she had perhaps found another love in her life.  A watery film covered her eyes. It was going to be a tough day but she held her nerve as she stepped out of the embrace and replied, “I’m good, thanks Janice….You?”

“Oh, I’m doing okay.”

There was a weariness in her voice and in her words that hadn’t been there before.

Janet then made her way over to Max who was sitting at the table with Liam on his knee. They were discussing trains, Max’s lifelong obsession.

“Hi, Max,” Janet said as she leaned down and kissed his whiskery cheek, “you’re not trying to turn Liam into a train fanatic too, are you?”

“Well, as a matter of fact….,” Max answered with a broad grin, “Liam, there’s a present for you on Nana and Pop’s bed…. Emma, there’s one for you too…. Why don’t you two go and get them and bring them out…”

“And kids, go out the back and let your Uncle Evan know you’re here, please” Deborah added.

Liam quickly jumped off his grandfather’s knee and was soon joined by Emma as they raced off on their mission.

“You don’t have to buy them gifts,” Janet scolded but with a smile to soften her words.

“We don’t have to,” Max replied, “but we want to and as their grandparents we’re officially allowed to.”

“Nothing too expensive, I hope,” Janet conceded as she gave Max’s shoulder a friendly squeeze.

As the group settled around the kitchen table, Deborah asked, “Can I get anyone a coffee? Tea? Wine?”

“Have a seat, Deborah. I’ll look after it,” Janet insisted gently.

oooOooo

After reading all that it held, Bianca shuffled the papers back into a tidy pile and placed the last of the manila folders on top of the others that made up the small pile sitting on the top corner of her desk although her mind continued to sort through the information she’d gleaned. She then leaned back in her chair, fully extending her arms above her head and stretching her neck first to one side and then to the other to work out the kinks.

She had spent the last two hours working her way through the files Andy had sent over on Janet’s ‘Bradshaw’ case which, as it turned out, had only taken up the two file boxes that had been put on her desk. It seemed the investigation had been relatively brief. Police had quickly found their suspects and gathered enough evidence to press charges against them. As far as they were concerned, the case was cut and dry.

Having now read the reports herself, however, Bianca wasn’t quite so sure and could appreciate Janet’s doubts about the case as she too wasn’t entirely convinced that the right people were being prosecuted, especially with the name ‘Sid Delaney’ cropping up once more. She made a mental note to ask Janet what she knew about Delaney and whether or not he was to be called as a witness although it was probably time she paid Mr Delaney a personal visit so she could form her own opinion of the man.

The police case stated that on the Saturday night of his murder Lance Bradshaw, in his capacity as a local councillor, had attended a charity dinner and auction that was being held at a marquee venue on the headland in front of the Sydney Opera House. Also attending the dinner were almost three hundred other well-heeled people who were able to afford the $1000 per head event. The crowd included a plethora of Sydney business men and women, a number of sporting stars both rising and fading, celebrities from various media as well as a variety of other politicians of different levels and from both sides of the floor, each one expected to dig deep into their pockets for charity during the night.

Just before midnight, Bradshaw had been conversing with a small group which included one other councillor, a sports star of note and her husband and Sid Delaney. According to Delaney’s statement, Bradshaw had said that it was time he was off home and indicated that he intended to drive. Concerned that he was over the limit, Delaney suggested he take a taxi but Bradshaw was adamant that he was fine to drive and didn’t want the hassle of having to return the next day to pick up his car. Delaney had tried to convince him that driving wasn’t a good idea and it wouldn’t look good if a councillor was booked for DUI but Bradshaw dismissed his concern. Finally, as a compromise, Delaney offered Bradshaw the use of his personal driver, Cherie Allan, one of those now accused of his murder. Allan was to drive Bradshaw home in his own car and then return to the dinner in a taxi paid for by Delaney. It was an offer that was begrudgingly accepted. Delaney had phoned Cherie Allan to inform her of the arrangement.

Allan had met Bradshaw outside the elevator on the second level of the carpark where he had handed over his keys and walked her to his car.

In her statement to police, Allan had said that it was obvious that Lance Bradshaw had had a few drinks too many as he was unsteady on his feet but they made it to the car without incident. During the 25-minute drive, Bradshaw bemoaned the fact that his wife and sons didn’t appreciate how hard he worked to maintain their lifestyle and that he thought the love and most definitely the sex had gone out of his marriage. It was then that he became flirtatious and attempted to rest his hand on Allan’s thigh which she instantly told him was not going to happen so he reluctantly withdrew it.

Having arrived at Bradshaw’s house, a substantial, modern building not close enough to the waterfront to make it out of the price-range of all but the very richest but still in an enviable location, Allan discovered the remote control which opened the automated door to the garage. Once it was fully-retracted, she parked the car inside.

Instead of calling a taxi for a ride back to work, Allan called her boyfriend of four years, Marcus Dodd, the second person now facing several charges relating to the murder of Lance Bradshaw. She explained to police that she did so because she knew he would still be awake despite the late hour and he had told her on a number of occasions she should call him if she needed him.

Police contradicted this, saying that Allan had called him because she and her boyfriend had planned to blackmail Bradshaw. Needless to say, Allan had vehemently denied the suggestion.

In Allan’s version of events, she states that once she’d called her boyfriend she’d been headed towards the open garage door so she could wait for Marcus on the footpath when Bradshaw had called to her and invited her to wait inside. Considering his state of intoxication, she’d been about to refuse but changed her mind and asked if she could use the bathroom. Bradshaw had smiled at her and said, ‘Of course’ and pointed her in the right direction.

When she had returned from the bathroom, she found Bradshaw had discarded his jacket and his shoes and was standing in the living room with a glass tumbler in his hand into which he poured a large splash of scotch and handed it to her then helped himself to a sizable gulp from his own tumbler that had been sitting on the coffee table….the same coffee table where both glasses and the bottle of scotch were later found by police. 

As Bradshaw savoured the fiery liquid, he loosened and removed his tie and undid the top button and those on the cuffs of his shirt.  Allan began to sense his intentions and tried to step away a little so she was out of immediate reach but he grabbed her around the waist and drew her close enough that she could smell the ferment on his breath. He tried to kiss her but fortunately, he wasn’t a strong man…too many years behind a desk….and Allan was able to fend him off, however, he didn’t take kindly to her rejection and started to become angry, pushing her onto the sofa while hurling abusive names at her and making wild accusations. He then made a clumsy attempt to pin her down and lie on top of her.

According to Cherie Allan’s statement, it was as she was yelling at him to get off her that her boyfriend had stormed into the room and hauled Bradshaw to his feet by the neck of his shirt and tossed him onto the floor. Bradshaw, finding his feet once more, lunged at Dodd, a man with a much more imposing physique and the strength to go with it.

“ _One can only guess at why he would attempt this with a man clearly so much stronger than himself,” Bianca thought to herself as she perused a photograph of Marcus Dodd, “perhaps his confidence was bolstered by the amount of alcohol he’d had to drink or maybe he was determined not to lose face.”_

To stop him, Dodd put one of his massive hands around Bradshaw’s throat and held him at arm’s length while, at the same time, warning him in no uncertain terms never to touch his girlfriend ever again. To ensure the message was adequately conveyed, Dodd admitted to laying a fist firmly into Bradshaw’s soft gut after which he released him.

Both Dodd and Allan state that although Bradshaw was on the floor, severely winded and doubled up in pain, when they left the house he was still very much alive and in the clothes he had worn to the dinner.

Rather than return to work, Allan, who was badly shaken by what had happened, phoned her boss, Sid Delaney, and made the excuse that she wasn’t feeling well and she was going home. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t tell her boss exactly what had happened other than to say that she was probably in shock and it was less complicated to say that she was ill.

Bianca noted that once Allan arrives at Bradshaw’s house, the police summation reads quite differently to the statements taken from the two accused of the murder. Police claim that because Allan’s job regularly saw her alone with high profile public figures when they often were not at their best, she and Dodd had seen it as a chance to make some easy money. Together, they had hatched the scheme that involved photographing a well-known person in a compromising situation that could quite possibly ruin their reputation and their livelihood if the photos were ever to hit the public domain, hence the outfit Bradshaw was found in, and then blackmailing them. Once they had the costume, it was just a matter of waiting for the right opportunity to come along and, unfortunately for Lance Bradshaw, he had been their first choice. He was a well-known, respected public figure who clearly had a considerable amount of money at his disposal. A scandal would spell the end of his career in politics and his generous income.

The police go on to claim that when Allan arrived at Bradshaw’s place, she phoned Dodd to let him know the address and then made up the excuse of needing to use the bathroom to insinuate her way into the house, conveniently leaving the garage door open for her boyfriend.

Despite her insistence that it happened, there was no evidence other than Cherie Allan and Marcus Dodd’s word to prove that Bradshaw had attempted to sexually assault her. Instead, the police summary states that Allan continued to distract Bradshaw until her partner arrived by suggesting they have a drink. After Dodd’s arrival, their theory goes, he forced Bradshaw to wash down some amphetamines with the scotch, quickly rendering him too out-of-it to fight off Dodd and Allan as they removed his clothes and put him into the fishnet stockings, corset, stilettos and wig. However, at some stage during this process something went horribly wrong. Maybe Bradshaw tried to struggle free. Maybe he began to choke. The police weren’t sure but what they were certain of, due to forensic evidence, was that Bradshaw had been manually strangled and it was Dodd’s fingerprints they found around their victim’s neck.

The police summary then went on with what can only be described as conjecture, saying that Allan and Dodd, in a desperate attempt to hide their deed, decided to make it look like Bradshaw had taken pills and imbibed too much alcohol, then accidentally fallen into his swimming pool and drowned. This was a scenario that the two accused of its doing strenuously denied.

Bianca could see how these conclusions could have been drawn by police. There was motive. Cherie Allan was deeply in debt to several financiers, mostly pay-day loan sharks, with no real hope of paying back what she had borrowed plus their exorbitant fees. Marcus Cullen had been sacked from his job as a security guard over a year ago and had since only been able to find the occasional casual employment so there was no regular income to offer. It also didn’t help his cause that he had been previously charged and found guilty of causing grievous bodily harm, a conviction that was recorded and saw him receive a six-month good behaviour bond.  

There was also plenty of opportunity. In Allan’s job as a chauffeur of sorts to Sid Delaney which she’d had for two years now, she was often called upon to drive high profile figures home because of their various states of inebriation. It was simply a matter of being prepared and waiting for the right chance to present itself.

Despite all of this, in Bianca’s considered opinion, the case had been less-than-thoroughly investigated with too much reliance on conjecture and circumstance. There were obvious lines of enquiry that hadn’t been followed up and witnesses who hadn’t been formally questioned while the witness statements that were there were scant on detail. Bianca couldn’t help but think that her state counterpart, a Sergeant Bryce, who had headed the investigation, had been a little too eager to take the most obvious and easy route to a conviction. It was as though a theory had been patched together and what evidence they had was made to fit. If Bianca didn’t know better….and she wasn’t sure she did…she would say that it appeared as if any other possible scenario had been actively discouraged. What she did know for sure was that if Janet had been the original prosecutor instead of the last-minute replacement when a colleague fell ill, many more ‘t's would have been crossed and ‘i's dotted before it went to court. Bianca also had to ask herself how the case made its way past Tony’s usually high standard of quality control. If Chrissie confirmed that the footprint found in the garden bed at the Bradshaw’s house was a match for the one at the Michael Collins crime scene, an entirely new and confounding spanner would be thrown into the works.

Thinking of Chrissie, Bianca checked her emails to see if she had sent any relevant messages but there was nothing. She then checked her phone but again, nothing.

While she had her phone out, Bianca decided to give Janet a call. The woman was never too far from her thoughts even when she was up to her ears in paperwork, puzzles and dead bodies. Maybe they could get together for dinner. She could offer to bring over some take-away Thai as well as a bottle of wine and they could share a relaxing Saturday night in front of the television…well, as relaxing as it gets with young children around.  Bianca hit Janet’s contact number and listened as her phone connected, however, the call went directly to voice mail. After the beeps, Bianca left her message.

“Hi Janet, it’s me…Bianca…. Um… just wondering if you want to get together for dinner tonight….I could bring over some take-away….give me a call.”

During the time she had been perusing the files, there had been a gradual influx into the outer office of both civilians going about their various jobs and police officers beginning their shift. Computers had been brought to life, phones were beginning to ring with increasing regularity and there was now a steady buzz of conversation.

Among those present was Constable Alex Foster, a member of Bianca’s team. From within her sanctum, Bianca managed to catch Alex’s eye and signalled for her to join her in her office.

“How are we going with Michael Collins’ bank records?” Bianca asked as the young constable entered the room. “Any progress?”

“There was no trouble getting access,” Alex replied a little nervously as she didn’t get to be alone with her boss very often and she found it slightly daunting. “One of the analysts is working on them…. It shouldn’t take too long….I had a quick look at them myself and I don’t think they’ll find anything.”

“Why’s that?”

 “It’s just a gut feeling really,” she said, wishing that she hadn’t offered her opinion quite so readily because now she had to explain and she wasn’t sure she could. She didn’t want Sergeant Grieve thinking she was an amateur. “Collins doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would bother with a bank account….he’s more a ‘cash’ man. I think any money he had is stashed away somewhere where he had ready access to it when he needed it for….bail…drugs.”

While Bianca considered the idea, there was just a hint of a smile on her face. She enjoyed seeing those she’d taken under her wing develop their instinct, however, it left Alex feeling a little unnerved as she wasn’t sure if Bianca was taking her idea seriously or not.

Finally, Bianca said, “I tend to agree….. Have we got the warrant to search Mrs Collins’ house yet?”

Alex breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Her boss didn’t think she was a fool after all.

“No, not yet, but it shouldn’t be too far away.”

“Make sure you’re there when they search the place and make sure they look everywhere including up in the ceiling. We need computers, laptops, tablets, any other phones he may have hidden away.”

“Right.”

Assuming she was now dismissed, Alex turned to head for the door when Bianca said, “Before you go, Alex, can I pick your brains?”

“Of course,” the constable replied, trying to prevent a wide grin from breaking out. She was flattered by the thought that she might know more about something than her boss and any extra time she could spend in Sergeant Grieve’s presence was a delightful bonus.

Bianca took the manila folder from the top of the Bradshaw pile and flicked through the pages until she found the photos that forensics had taken of Lance Bradshaw’s body immediately after they had retrieved it from the swimming pool. He had already been dead for several hours. Bianca spread out the set of 5 photos on her desk for Alex to see.

“Mmm….That’s a bit bizarre,” Alex said as she took a careful look at the images, “who is it?”

“I’ll explain it all later….What I was wondering was …. And here’s where I’m hoping you can help me….Where does someone get a costume like that….corset, wig, size 12 stilettos?”

Alex looked up from the photos and gave her boss a mischievous smile to which Bianca replied, “No, Foster, I’m not interested in buying one for myself….It could be a clue to a case I think we may have to help the state police to solve.”

“It depends whether it was all bought as a set or individually,” Alex said giving it more serious consideration. “The stockings, wig and stilettos look cheap and could be purchased at any of the big retail stores. As for the corset….a lingerie store? Sex shop? Costume shop? Second-hand store or even the internet?”

As she pondered the disappointingly large number of possibilities to herself, Bianca scooped the photos into a neat pile and slotted them back in the folder. Tracking down the purchase of these items would mean trolling through Allan and Dodd’s bank accounts and unless it was a relatively recent purchase it could mean going back months…even years. Who knew how long they had been planning this or even _if_ they had planned it? There was also the likelihood that they had used cash or come by the items another way which meant the acquisition would be untraceable.

“Is that all?” Alex asked, prompting Bianca from her thoughts.

Bianca tossed an idea over for a moment then asked, “If you’re not too busy, how about we go and visit a Mr Sid Delaney? It’s to do with the Collins case….I can update you on the drive.”

“You and me? I mean, of course…. Never too busy…the other stuff can wait,” Foster replied, fumbling her way through her elation. _If only her boss knew that she would willingly accompany her anywhere even if it meant going to the sunspots on Mars. So what if the woman was nearly twenty years her senior. It was her age and experience that gave her the quiet self-assurance and wisdom she found so attractive. Besides, Sergeant Grieve was in great physical shape. Alex often found it difficult not to visibly swoon when her boss strode into the office in full sergeant-mode in her suit and with her leather gun holster strapped round her shoulders, ready for action.  Many a dream had been based on that image._

As Bianca searched through her bag for her keys, there came the sound of her phone ringing. She looked at the screen. It was her friend, Chrissie. Not exactly who she’d hoped it would be but she anticipated that Chrissie would be the bearer of useful news so she took the call nonetheless.

As Bianca answered, she signalled to Alex to take a seat and wait for her.

“Hi Chrissie. How are you?”

“I’m fine…. well, as fine as I can be stuck at work doing a favour for a friend,” Chrissie teased.

“But you know it will earn you my undying gratitude.”

“Yeah, right. Like that will get me anywhere…”

“What did you find? Is the print a match?” As much as Bianca enjoyed their banter, she was anxious to cut to the chase.

“They are indeed a match, Sergeant Grieve. Exactly the same shoes. Exactly the same wear pattern. I’d go so far as to say exactly the same person.”

“Great…. I think.”

“You think?”

A whole new line of investigation would now have to be opened up. They didn’t have just the one murder on their hands now but two and both were tied to the same mystery man who they were no closer to identifying. This new evidence also put Janet’s case in further jeopardy and with the trial set to resume in four days, they would have to work quickly to either prove or disprove the involvement of this other person.

“It going to complicate matters but I’ll figure it out…..Thanks for your help, Chrissie…I owe you one.”

“Just one? You at least owe me dinner and this time you should bring along the lovely Ms King …….I need to meet the woman who puts that silly smile on your face.”

“I’ll see what I can arrange,” Bianca laughed before asking, “Are you still going to Sid Delaney’s luncheon…party…. tomorrow with…?”

“Rose…. Yep. Why do you ask?”

“I can’t give you the details at the moment but can I ask you to keep an eye out for me for anything or anyone unusual?”

“Unusual? What’s that supposed to mean exactly?”

“I’m not sure …. just use your intuition. No sleuthing but…. let’s call it ‘monitoring’ the event.”

“Okay. Will do …. that is, unless I’m caught up ‘monitoring’ Rose.”

“Fair enough.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Grieve…. I’ve got to run and use what’s left of my Saturday…Cheers.”

“Bye, Chrissie…and thanks.”

By the time she’d hung up, Bianca had gone off the idea of speaking to Delaney. With this new piece of information there were too many things to think about and she wanted a clear head when she questioned him.

“Alex, I think we’ll leave the visit to Sid Delaney until Monday after I’ve had a chance to check out a few things and update the whole team.”

Alex did her best to hide her disappointment. “Sure. I can see what information is available on him as well, if you like?”

“Great…Thanks. That would be very useful.”

With nothing more to add, Alex returned to her workstation determined to find every bit of information that existed on Mr Sid Delaney.

Bianca checked her phone once more for messages, in particular, messages from Janet but there were none. She then looked at the time. It was nearly one o’clock. If she went home now she could put to rest a few of those menial household chores she’d been avoiding. Doing relatively mindless tasks was a strategy she found worked well when her head was cluttered with information…thoughts….ideas…speculations….and none of them making much sense.

While Bianca was packing the last of the files back into their box so she could leave, there came a sharp rap on her door quickly followed by the presence of SC Josh Anderson standing in her office. It annoyed the hell out of her that he never waited to be invited in. It was always knock and enter. She knew it was a minor issue and her annoyance was probably fuelled as much by her frustration with the case as Anderson’s lack of etiquette so she bit back any comment, for now.

“Hi, Sarge.  Isn’t it your day off? What are you up to?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Bianca replied just a touch tersely although it seemed to fly straight over her senior constable's head.

“I’ve picked up that warrant for the Collins place. Want to come with us while we turn it over?”

Bianca considered it for a moment but decided she would stick with her previous plan.

“Take Foster. I’ve given her instructions. She knows what to do….And, Anderson, do it respectfully, please….Remember, Mrs Collins has lost her son….Don’t be too gung-ho about it.”

“Right.”

“Also, Josh, Dr Williams has called me and confirmed that the footprint taken from another crime scene is the same as the one from the warehouse in our Collins case so I need you to get up to speed on this one ASAP. I’ll be updating the rest of the team on Monday.” Bianca indicated to the Bradshaw files that were now packed away in the two boxes on her desk. She couldn’t help but notice how his cheerful expression faded at the thought of trowelling through more paperwork.

“I’ll leave them here for when you’re ready. I’m off home. Call me if anything turns up.”

oooOooo

It was one of the few times there was a parking space available right outside her house. Bianca supposed that everyone else in the street was predictably out taking advantage of the warmth and fairness of another brilliant summer day before the coolness of autumn drifted in and then, all too soon, was lost to the cold, windy stretch that was winter.

As she entered her house and walked through to the kitchen, Bianca came across a note magnetised to her fridge. It was from her boarder, Rhys. He was letting her know that he was going to Byron Bay and would be away until the following Saturday. She couldn’t help but detect a certain gloating in his words.

Bianca balled the note and binned it, feeling slightly envious that it was Rhys and not her enjoying the freedom of some sun, surf and sand. Perhaps when she had unknotted this latest tangle she would apply for a week or more of leave so she too could plunge into crystal clear waters or lounge carefree on an exotic beach somewhere. Maybe she could entice Janet to accompany her.

After changing into the more casual attire of T-shirt and shorts, Bianca pottered around the house doing the various tasks that had been recently neglected due to the demands of her job and the time she’d spent with Janet in favour of staying at home performing domestic duties.

She’d changed the sheets on her bed, put on a load of laundry, folded and put away some clean clothes, cleaned out her refrigerator and run a brush around the toilet bowl before the whole idea of household chores began to bore her, meanwhile her mind consciously whirred with the facts as they stood and the task of finding the causal link between the Bradshaw case and the Collins case which she was convinced existed but remained out or her grasp.

It was as she wandered into the study in search of a ladder so she could change a defunct light bulb in her bedroom that she decided there was still enough daylight left for her to paint the walls in this the last room that needed her attention or at least to do the preparatory work ready for a full-on effort the next day. It was a task that appealed to her much more than the more mundane housework. The light bulb could wait one more day.

The room had been emptied and stripped back months ago when she had painted the ceiling but there had been no opportunity since to finish the job. Drop cloths remained spread out across the polished wooden floor and several four-litre tins of paint sat unopened in one corner. Two paint rollers lay in wait in their trays with several paint brushes of varying sizes standing by in a handy-sized paint container beside the trays, along with a bunch of clean rags used for wiping off any stray drips and splatters. The ladder she had been looking for stood in the same position she had left it when she had finished the ceiling all those weeks back.

Rather than get paint on another set of clothes, Bianca changed into the already paint-spattered coveralls that she had previously used as well as a cheap pair of canvas shoes she kept for the occasion and her painting cap, originally a dark blue but now covered in multi-coloured dribs and drabs. She would do all the fiddly cutting in today and then it would just be a matter of applying the undercoat and possibly even a top coat tomorrow.

oooOooo

It was only by sheer luck that Bianca had made sufficient progress around the room so that when she had to descend the ladder yet again to refill her empty paint container, she had to walk past the room’s only window. As she did so, she looked out in time to see someone walking down her front path. It took her only a heartbeat to realise that that someone was Janet. She must have knocked on the door but decided no one was home when there was no answer. Now she was heading back down the front path towards her car.

Bianca immediately set down her brush and paint container and made a dash for the front door. At the bottom of the stairs she took a couple of deep breaths to calm the panic then went to the door and opened it just as Janet was letting herself through the front gate.

“Janet!”

Janet turned her head in surprise and smiled to see Bianca standing in the doorway. Bianca took a firm grip of the door as it was that smile which was quite capable of making her go weak at the knees.

“I was upstairs painting. I didn’t hear you knock,” Bianca explained as Janet turned and walked back towards her, “I just happened to see you from the window… Come in.”

“Are you sure?” Janet asked as she reached her, “I don’t want to interrupt if you’re busy.”

“You’re not interrupting…. I’ve been at it for almost two hours so I could do with a break. Would you like a drink?”

“Yes, please,” Janet replied as she followed Bianca into the kitchen despite not being fully convinced that she wasn’t disrupting.

“What would you like?” Bianca asked then added with dismay as she looked in the fridge, “I don’t have any wine, only beer, if you want a cold drink …Or would you prefer a coffee?”

“Beer’s fine.”

Bianca fought with the cardboard packaging until she managed to free two icy cold bottles then screwed off the caps.

“A glass?”

Janet declined the offer with a shake of her head and a “Not necessary…the bottle will do.”

Bianca handed one of the beers to Janet then raised her own for the customary clinking of glass, however, before Bianca could put the bottle to her lips, Janet had reached over carefully so as to avoid any possible wet paint and claimed them in a brief but tender kiss which left Bianca desperately trying to control the smile that wanted to break out across her face … possibly the ‘silly one’ Chrissie referred to.

“Where are the twins?” Bianca asked in an attempt to ignore her rising urges.

“They’re at Deborah’s. Ash’s parents…the twins’ other grandparents… are visiting in the hope of seeing their new grandchild in the next week or so and they asked if the kids could stay over with them as they don’t get to see them very often…And they bought Liam an electric train set so I think Max is as excited as Liam to see it up and running.”

“And what did Emma score? Please don’t tell me a Barbie doll.”

“No,” Janet laughed, “apparently Ash’s favourite toy as a child was her vast collection of Lego, all of which Max and Janice have kept over the years. They boxed it up and gave it to Emma which I thought was rather fitting and Emma was rapt …. Although, strictly speaking, all toys are for sharing…”

“Not if they’re anything like my brother and me…or most brothers and sisters I know.”

“That was one good thing about being an only child, I suppose… I didn’t have to share my toys,” Janet said pensively, “although, I don’t think I would have minded… not that I had much in the way of toys to share…. I was more into books.”

It was a revelation that didn’t surprise Bianca at all.

“Have you been painting all day?” Janet asked in an effort to redirect the conversation as she always felt uncomfortable talking about her childhood. It had become quite clear to her over her adult years that her upbringing which she had assumed was similar to that of every other family did, in actual fact, contrast starkly to most.

“No, I went into work this morning. There were some things I wanted to double check…”

Bianca proceeded to tell Janet about her morning spent going through the Bradshaw files and, having read them, her tendency to concur with Janet’s sense that things weren’t quite as they seemed and that the investigation needed to look at other possible scenarios and suspects. Her recount culminated in the news from Chrissie that the footprint left in the Bradshaw garden bed on the night Lance Bradshaw was murdered was the same as the one from the scene of Michael Collins’ murder.

After considering the implications of what Bianca had just told her, Janet said, “We’re going to have to ask the court for a continuance….We need time to fully investigate this new evidence.”

“There’s still a few more days until the case resumes. Let’s wait and see what we can dig up before then but I think you’re right. I’m surprised Tony was convinced that the evidence was solid enough to prosecute.”

“Without the footprint, it’s a reasonable case and James….well, James could sell sand to the Arabs….with the footprint, the defence are going to create an evidential hole that you could drive a truck through.”

The frown on Janet’s face said all there was to say concerning both her colleague, James, from whom she’d inherited the case as well as her dissatisfaction with the entire investigation.

“The other common factor in all of this is Sid Delaney,” Bianca added, “he owns the warehouse where Michael was killed and ….”

“Cherie Allan was Sid Delaney’s driver and, along with her boyfriend, Marcus Dodd, is charged with various offences relating to the murder of Lance Bradshaw.”

Bianca nodded. “I know the tie seems rather tenuous at the moment but I can’t help thinking that he’s involved in both murders somehow…. but we need to find some proof.”

“Have you questioned him?” Janet asked.

“Not yet. I want more background information on him before I do that….Alex…Constable Foster is on that job as we speak…..and Chrissie is going to a function at Delaney’s house tomorrow so she’s going to do some reconnaissance work for me too…I’ll talk to him on Monday.”

“How did Chrissie…?”

“Rose, her latest foray into love, turns out to be Sid Delaney’s daughter… Rose Delaney.”

“That could come in handy.”

“Mmmm….”

Both women lifted their bottles to their mouths and took a long pull on the beer as they considered the possibilities.

“Do you have much painting left to do?” Janet asked as she moved in a little closer to Bianca and encircled her with one arm.

“I’m about two-thirds through,” Bianca replied, taking advantage of Janet’s closeness to kiss the curve of her neck, “but it isn’t urgent. It’s waited this long, another day won’t hurt. I’ll just need to put the brushes in to soak so they don’t harden.”

Janet moved closer still, no longer worried about the possibility of wet paint getting on her clothes and captured Bianca’s mouth with her own as lips and tongues played off against one another in a deep, inviting kiss.

“Why don’t I help you finish the painting,” Janet offered as they drew apart once more.

Bianca smiled. It wasn’t quite the activity she imagined they were leading up to but the idea of Janet helping her to paint her study was still appealing.

“Are you sure?”

“Why not? As long as you don’t mind a rank amateur giving it a go,” Janet said as she chugged the last mouthful of her beer.

“Okay…Come on then. I’m sure I have another pair of coveralls or at least some old clothes you can wear.”

With that, Bianca lead the way upstairs and in a short time had managed to unearth a second pair of coveralls and a cap for Janet to wear.

“We’re just doing the cutting in for now,” Bianca said as she handed Janet a paintbrush and a container of undercoat, however, on seeing Janet’s blank expression, she realised she needed to explain further. “So, if you run the paintbrush down each of the grooves in the timber making sure the paint gets right in and along all the edges that are difficult to paint later…. all the fiddly bits.” Bianca then demonstrated what she meant on a small portion of the wall. “If you paint as far up as you can reach, I’ll use the ladder to do the rest.”

Nodding her understanding, Janet reclaimed her paintbrush and the paint and began on the next section of wall while Bianca moved the ladder into place so she too could start.

oooOooo

“What’s that song?” Bianca asked from her position atop the ladder.

Janet stopped her painting and looked up at her, a puzzled expression on her face as she asked, “What’s what song?”

“That tune you’re humming.”

“Oh, I didn’t realise I was humming,” Janet said, her cheeks reddening slightly, “it’s probably a Wiggles tune…. I’ve heard little else over the last three and a bit years and once that stuff is in your head it never leaves.”

“Oh, right,” Bianca laughed as she climbed down the ladder, “It was kind of catchy.”

Bianca stood in the centre of the room and surveyed their progress. After a final few strokes with her brush, Janet joined her.

“I think our work here is done,” Bianca declared as her arms loosely encircled Janet’s waist, “thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Janet replied as she ran the bristles of the paintbrush she had in her hand lightly across Bianca’s chin, leaving behind a faint stroke of white paint.

Bianca gave her a dangerous smile.

 “Do you really want to play that game? My brush is bigger than yours.”

“Probably not,” she answered with a coy smile as she wiped the paint from Bianca’s chin with her cloth in surrender.

“Why don’t you have a shower while I clean up in here and then I’ll take you to dinner at my favourite restaurant. If we hurry, we’ll beat the rush.”

oooOooo

Once the lid was firmly back on the paint tin, the brushes and containers cleaned and both pairs of coveralls stored in the laundry where she could retrieve them the next day, Bianca wandered into her ensuite expecting Janet to be finished showering and dressed, however, it was only as she opened the door and stepped into the room that Janet emerged from the shower and reached for her towel.

“There, it’s all yours,” she said as she ruffled her wet hair with the towel. Bianca’s eyes were momentarily fixed on the rivulets or water running the length of her gorgeous body.

While Janet towelled herself dry, Bianca removed her underwear and, out of habit, poked a hand under the running water to check its temperature. As she did so, she felt Janet’s hand brush her hair to one side and her lips press playful kisses to the back of her neck while the other hand reached around and gently teased each breast. Bianca closed her eyes. For a moment, she felt the sensual warmth of Janet’s body pressed lightly against her own but just as she put hand back to draw her closer, the warmth was gone. When she turned around to see what was happening, Janet was getting dressed. Bianca looked at her with an eyebrow raised in question.

“What?” Janet asked innocently but with just the hint of a grin then added as an explanation, “I thought you said we needed to hurry if we were going to beat the rush.”

oooOooo

The restaurant Bianca had in mind specialised in Indian cuisine and was only a short 10-15 minute walk from her home up onto Blues Point Road. It had an excellent reputation for both its food and service but, as such, it proved to be very popular particularly on a Saturday evening. Worried that they might miss out on a table, Bianca hurried Janet along by keeping up a lively pace.

When they finally made it to the door, Bianca peered into the familiar room with its walls awash with dream-like murals of India painted in pastels and gilded in ‘gold’ and its myriad of tables, each covered in a white cloth with a small vase holding a plastic orchid placed in the centre.  She was relieved to see that although it was already very busy there were still several unoccupied tables in her preferred section of the restaurant which she requested when they were greeted by one of the waiting staff.

Once they were seated, both women perused the menu, unaware until now of how hungry they actually were. Having been here on many occasions, Bianca was able to recommend the Tandoori Prawns or perhaps the Chef’s platter for 2 as an entree, while suggesting the Butter Salmon or the Afghan Goat Curry as a main course.

Although the meals were table service, customers needed to go to the bar to purchase their drinks. Bianca had offered to buy the first round but Janet had already taken her wallet out of her bag and was heading off with the order.

As Janet waited beside an older Indian man for her turn to be served, she heard a familiar voice call out her name. She turned her head in response.

“Janet! I thought it was you!”

“Erin! How are you?” Janet asked as she spied her friend who had also once been her work colleague, walking towards the bar. The two women wrapped each other up in an enthusiastic embrace.

“I can’t believe I’ve bumped into you here,” Erin exclaimed, “What a wonderful surprise. It’s been so long.”

As Janet and Erin hugged each other once more, they were joined by another woman who stood by Erin’s side and, as Janet noted, took her hand. She was almost as tall as Janet and with a similar build if not a little more athletic. Her features were also similar with shoulder-length, blonde hair and striking blue eyes although she lacked Janet’s strong bone structure.

“Janet, this is my wife, Simone,” Erin said by way of introduction, “Simone, this is Janet King.”

Reaching out and shaking the woman’s hand, Janet tried to keep the astonishment out of her voice as she said, “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise,” the woman replied with a genuinely warm smile, “Erin has talked about you… a lot.”

“Favourably, I hope.” Janet wondered exactly how much Erin had said about her.

“Very favourably…..I feel like I already know you.”

Janet could feel her cheeks start to blush at the attention.

“Erin, why don’t you and Simone join us?” Janet indicated to the table where Bianca sat looking on patiently although curious as to what was happening.

“Are you sure?” Erin asked, “we don’t want to gate-crash your party.”

“You won’t be gate-crashing…Let me buy you and Simone a drink and then we can go over.”

Once Janet had been served and they each had a drink in their hands, the group headed towards the table. On the way, Janet caught the attention of a passing waiter and requested that another table be joined to hers to accommodate her two guests which he said he would see to immediately.

As they approached the table, Bianca stood up to greet them, relieving Janet of one of the bottles of Kingfisher at the same time.

“Bianca, this is Erin O’Shaughnessy…. and this is her wife, Simone. Erin used to work with me at the DPP …she also helped deliver the twins.”

Bianca extended her hand and gave each woman a friendly handshake. There was a story she would have to make sure Janet told her.

“Erin, Simone this is my…um…friend, Bianca. She’s a sergeant with the AFP.”

Bianca shot Janet a swift raised eyebrow which Janet either chose to ignore or didn’t see as she went on unperturbed to say, “I’ve asked Erin and Simone to join us if that’s alright?’

“Of course,” Bianca replied, putting the ‘friend’ comment to one side for now.

A waiter quickly appeared and moved one of the other tables so that the women could sit together. He then provided two more menus.

“What have you been doing since you left the DPP?” Janet asked Erin as they settled at the table and once again looked at menus.

“I went to England on a holiday not long after leaving the DPP. I fell in love with the place…and Simone…. so I decided to stay….I have dual citizenship, you see…I’m now working as an investment advisor.”

“An investment advisor? I didn’t know you were interested in the stock market and shares.”

“I wasn’t but an opportunity came up for a good job and I was desperate….I’m a quick learner so I studied up and lo and behold, the job was mine although I have to tell you, no one was more surprised than me. It was with one of the rather prestigious English firms too. I gradually built up a solid client base and was doing quite well….”

“She was doing _very_ well,” Simone tossed in.

“Then Simone convinced me I should set up my own business which I eventually did with her help…that’s her area of expertise. The investment world is demanding and there’s a lot of responsibility…Clients tend to not like it if you lose bucket loads of their money… but it’s interesting and it pays well.”

“You said you were married so I’m assuming you were married in England,” Bianca said as her way into the conversation. She was determined to not let the talk veer towards the comings and goings of the DPP.

“Scotland, actually,” Simone replied, “it was a huge affair at an old Scottish castle….It was just over two weeks ago.”

“Congratulations. That’s sounds amazing.”

“Thank you,” Simone said, “It _was_ amazing although it was that damn cold we both nearly froze our tits off… Anyway, Erin wanted me to see Australia so we’re here on our honeymoon and I’m delighted to say it’s much warmer than Scotland.”

Waiters appeared and orders were taken. Meals arrived and then empty plates and dishes were swept away amid what turned out to be an evening of entertaining and, at times, animated conversation covering a wide span of topics until finally it was time to part company with promises of catching up again another time before Erin and Simone returned to England.

Janet took with her the light mood of the evening as she and Bianca strolled back to the house at a much more leisurely pace than when they’d headed out.  While they walked, she explained to Bianca how Erin had been the one present at the birth of the twins and how ridiculous rumours had once spread around the office that she and Erin had had an affair, blithely unaware that Bianca wasn’t caught up in the same high spirits.

It wasn’t until they had almost reached Bianca’s place that Janet realised she was the one doing all the talking while Bianca had said no more than a few words.

“Is everything alright?” Janet asked as she took Bianca’s hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

Bianca slowed her pace as she turned to Janet with a look of consternation.

“What is it?” Janet asked again, genuinely bewildered by what the problem could be.

“It’s okay. We’re nearly home. We can talk about it there.”

Janet stood firm and held onto Bianca’s hand forcing her to stop too.

“No. Tell me now. What’s wrong?” she insisted.

Bianca took a quick glance along the street. They were the only ones there.

“Tonight, when you introduced me to Erin and Simone, you said I was your ‘friend’, for God’s sake….What was that about? Is that all I am? A friend?” She spoke with a deceptive calmness but her eyes expressed a hurt that was all too apparent.

Janet’s usual first line of defence was to go on the attack but this wasn’t a court case. It was the woman she cared about so much that it made her heart ache to know she had upset her. She tried an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to upset you….It’s just…”

“It’s just what?’

_Why were apologies so incredibly difficult, Janet wondered to herself as she tried to explain._

“Well, it’s only been a matter of weeks.” Janet began, unsure of exactly where she was headed, “I didn’t know if …..”

“If you wanted a partner?” Bianca interjected, “or just a ‘friend with benefits’ perhaps?”

Janet looked at Bianca in wide-eyed surprise. It hadn’t ever occurred to her that her intentions could be interpreted in that way. The shock seemed to clear her thoughts.

“No, not at all!  I used the word ‘friend’ because I didn’t know if _you_ thought of me as your partner. We haven’t actually talked about it. I didn’t want to be too presumptuous.”

Bianca’s stern expression softened considerably with this revelation.

“Let’s talk about it now then, shall we?” Bianca suggested as they commenced walking once more maintaining their slower pace, “Do you want us to be partners?”

Janet hesitated for a moment then said, “Do you?”

“I object, your Honour. My question can’t be answered with another question. I asked first so you have to answer first.”

Janet felt an inner cringe and a definite level of discomfort at having to be the first to reveal their feelings, the first to commit. It left her vulnerable and exposed, open to rejection. It was the very reason she was a prosecutor and not a defence lawyer she suspected. If you chose your cases carefully, were thorough and put in the hard work as a prosecutor, chances were, you would win, not that Janet ever left much to chance. Relationships were different. You could work as hard as you liked on them, devote everything you have to them and still lose; still have the one you love taken from you.

“Yes, I do,” Janet finally answered, her voice a little shaky despite an attempt to sound confident.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes…and you?”

Without hesitation, Bianca replied, “Most definitely.”

 A small grin turned up the corners of her mouth as she took Janet’s hand in her own and kissed the back of it. They walked the remaining distance in a far more comfortable silence. 

Bianca turned her key in the lock and pushed open the door.

“After you, partner,” she said as she stepped aside to allow Janet to enter, drawing a passing kiss on the tip of her nose for her effort, however, once the door was shut and locked behind them it became evident that Janet had something more serious in mind as she used her body to lightly pin Bianca to the back of the door, her hands dipping into Bianca’s hair and resting there.

“Actually, I think we should be more than partners,” Janet whispered in Bianca’s ear, her breath warm against Bianca’s cheek and her mouth revealing a hint of a lop-sided smile while her eyes, narrowed with intent, proceeded to fix Bianca with their gaze.

“More than partners? What would that be?”

“We could be _partners with benefits_.” Janet pressed herself a little more firmly against Bianca.

“Mmmm….Partners with benefits….And what might those benefits be?” Bianca managed to ask as she played along.

It was then that she was taken by the full force of Janet’s lips against her own, her tongue delving deep into Bianca’s mouth, demanding and hot. Bianca kissed her back with equal passion and force, love the certain driver behind the kiss even if both women, each for her own reasons, was not yet prepared to put it into words.

As they kissed, Janet’s deft fingers worked at freeing the buttons on Bianca’s blouse until she was able to splay it open. She then slipped a hand beneath the bra, cupping Bianca’s breast and playing her thumb first across one firm nipple and then the other, coaxing a long, low sigh from the woman as she did so. Emboldened by the sound, Janet drew her hand lower, her fingers running lightly over Bianca’s hips and stomach until they came to the band on her trousers. Undoing the button and zip, Janet moved her fingers lower still, letting them brush gently through the hair between Bianca’s thighs before they dipped further where it was wet and smooth as velvet. Janet felt Bianca twitch at her first touch. Then, as she stroked her with a single, wet fingertip, gently to begin with and then steadily faster and more firmly, Bianca’s hips began to buck and jerk and there came a volley of ‘Ohs’, low and fast and breathy, until there was one final gasp as Bianca stiffened then leaned back, heavy and slack, against the door. Janet eased her hand away and pressed herself against her partner, her head resting on Bianca’s shoulder, their arms encircling one another and both hearts beating wildly.

When she had calmed a little, Bianca put her hand to Janet’s cheek and whispered, “Okay, I’m in for partners-with-benefits.”

oooOooo

Using methods of persuasion best kept to herself, Bianca managed to convince Janet to stay the night.

The next morning had been a leisurely affair. Once they had risen, which was at an hour to which neither of them would usually consider lying in, Bianca provided coffee and breakfast out on the small balcony just off her bedroom and then a little later they had taken a casual stroll down to the waterfront. On their return, it was Janet who had suggested that they continue the painting of the walls in the study. Bianca didn’t think it was the ideal way to treat a guest or a lover but she wasn’t about to knock back a helping hand and Janet had volunteered of her own free will.

Kitted up in their coveralls and caps once more, the two women had been busy for almost an hour applying the first undercoat when Bianca’s phone began to buzz in her pocket. She had only just dipped her roller in the tray and was reluctant to stop before she had finished spreading the fresh paint so she allowed the call to go through to voice mail, however, almost immediately it began to buzz again.

Sensing that it could possibly be urgent, Bianca lay down her roller and retrieved her phone from her back pocket.

“Hi, Chrissie. What’s up?”

“I think I’ve found your man.”

“You’ve found me a man? Why on Earth would you do that?”

“No. I’ve found _your_ man.”

“What man?”

“Your mystery man…. heavy set, about 190cm, red hair and walks with a limp…Remember?”

Suddenly Chrissie had Bianca’s undivided attention. Noticing the serious expression on Bianca’s face and hearing the urgency in her voice, Janet also put down her paint things and joined her.

“Where are you?” It was then that Bianca recognised the sounds of other cars in the background. “Are you driving?”

“Yep.”

“Why are you driving? Tell me you’re not following him.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

“Chrissie, I told you…Never mind…Tell me where you are and the make and registration number of his car… I’ll get a squad car to pick him up.”

“It’s a dark blue Holden Commodore….a bit of a wreck with a broken tail light. He’s too far ahead for me to read the number plate at the moment….I’m trying to stay out of sight but a bright yellow Porsche probably isn’t the best car for this kind of work.”

Chrissie sped up and entered the left lane where she cruised up until she was within reading distance of the number plate.

“The registration number is DNB 845.”

Bianca repeated the number out loud. Janet took the cue and painted it on a part of the wall they hadn’t yet done so it wouldn’t be forgotten.

“We’re heading out of town along the M4….We’ve just past the Prospect Nature Reserve…. I think he might be heading for the mountains.”

“Why did you wait so long to call?”

“It’s this shitty phone I bought… I couldn’t get it to work.”

“Okay…keep him in sight for now but don’t get too close….No heroics, right. I’m on my way but I’ll get the local guys on the job. I’ll call back as soon as I’m on the road.”

As soon as she had disconnected the call, Bianca grabbed her keys and wallet along with her identification badge from her room and hurried towards her car with Janet hot on her heels. Janet had heard enough to know that they were onto something.

As promised, once she and Janet were in the car and moving, Bianca sent through a call to the local police and briefed them on the situation and its urgency.

“We’re after a dark blue Holden Commodore that’s heading out of town along the M4…registration number, D…”

“DNB 845,” Janet provided.

“Did you get that? DNB845,” Bianca repeated.

Satisfied that the dispatch officer had all the correct details and was aware of the urgency required, Bianca signed off and had Janet call Chrissie back on her phone.

“What took you?” Chrissie said in answer to the call.

“Have you still got him in your sights?”

“Yeah.”

“The local police shouldn’t be too far away. Do you think he’s picked up that you’re following him?”

“I’m not sure,” Chrissie replied. There was a note of trepidation in her voice. “But he’s going to work it out shortly because the traffic has thinned right out and we’ll be in the foothills soon where there’s no cover….probably just him and me.”

“Just don’t get too close,” Bianca advised, “you can pull out at any time, Chrissie….you know that…. we’ll find him again.”

It was tempting, she had to admit but as long as she remained at a sensible distance there wasn’t much he could do to harm her besides, there was no longer anywhere for her to pullover and turn around as they were now driving up into the hills where the roads became narrow and steep. She was committed to going right to the top.

“It’s as I thought, we’re going up into the hills,” Chrissie informed Bianca. “Where are the good guys?”

“I’m not sure….they can’t be too far away.”

“I think our mystery man has figured it out….he’s speeding up which isn’t a good idea on these roads.”

“Chrissie, stop and turn around….we’ll still find him.”

“There’s no point stopping now….there’s nowhere to turn around….the only way is ….. SHIT!”

Over the phone Janet and Bianca heard a hefty thud and the sound of metal on metal.

“Chrissie, what’s happening?”

“Some fuckwit in a silver SUV came up behind me in a big hurry and tried to pass me….he DID pass me but not before he damaged my car.”

“Are you alright?” Bianca asked.

“I’m extremely pissed off but I’m alright.”

Bianca breathed a quick sigh of relief at the fact that her friend was still in one piece and that they were now entering the road at the bottom of the foothills and couldn’t be too far away now.

“Do they even know how much it costs to fix a Por…Oh my god!!”

“What is it? What’s happening now?”

Over the phone, Bianca and Janet heard the screech of brakes and the slam of a door.

“Chrissie, what are you doing? Answer me, damn it!” But there was no answer.

Bianca pressed down on the accelerator as much as she dared while Janet maintained a white-knuckled grip on the door handle as they wound their way up the side of the mountain until they eventually caught sight of Chrissie’s yellow Porsche pulled over on the ridge of the road.

Bianca pulled up directly behind the car and immediately ran towards it. She looked inside but there was no sign of Chrissie other than her phone lying on the passenger seat.

“Bianca, come and look at this!” Janet called out to her from a little further up the road.

Janet had followed a set of tyre prints that clearly led off the edge of the bitumen.

As Bianca joined her, Janet pointed out the tyre tracks. Their eyes followed the path of mangled vegetation and came to rest on an upturned vehicle about one hundred or more metres below them.

“From here, it looks like our blue Commodore,” Bianca observed.

Both women stood wordlessly, their hands shading their eyes from the sun, as they scanned the scene until Janet pointed to a spot a several metres to the left of the wreck.

“What can you see?” Bianca asked.

“Over there near the rock… Is that a body?”

oooOooo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

“Don’t bother rushing… He’s dead,” came a voice a short distance away from where Bianca and Janet stood peering down the side of the slope at the wreckage and what appeared to be a human body, Bianca preparing to go down and take a closer look and perhaps implement a rescue.

They turned around to see Chrissie tender-footing it towards them from just beyond where their cars were parked. Despite herself, Bianca couldn’t help an audible cry of relief.

“Are you okay?” she asked as Chrissie approached them at the top of the slope. Her clothes were dirty and dishevelled, her hair a wild, tangled bird’s nest and her feet bare but otherwise, she seemed to be in one piece.

“I think so,” she answered as she swiped at the patches of dirt and dust on her clothes and pushed back into place the stray strands of hair which were pasted with perspiration to her forehead. “There’s a few cuts and bruises from scrambling through the bushes,” she added as she noticed the dried blood on her arms and the scratches on the tops of her feet, “but nothing a dab of Betadine won’t fix.”

Slowly, a wide grin creased its way across Chrissie’s face as she took in more fully the sight of the two women standing before her. From newspaper photos and TV interviews, she recognised the blonde woman with Bianca as the Department of Public Prosecution’s senior prosecutor and sometime Royal Commissioner, Janet King.

“Just look at you two in your matching overalls…. How very lesbian. A pair of Super Mario brothers…all you need is matching caps.”

Bianca and Janet slipped each other a secretive glance that said, _“If only she knew”_ and thanked the goddesses that they’d left their painting caps back at the house.

Unamused by the comparison, Bianca replied indignantly, “Well, at the time, we thought it was more important to save your life than to change our clothes.”

“What were you doing?”

“Painting the study.”

“Painting the study…. Wow. It’s reassuring to know you haven’t forgotten how to show a girl a good time, Grieve.”

Deciding to ignore the jibe as there was the more pressing matter of the dead body lying on the mountainside to consider, Bianca instead assumed full-on sergeant mode as she asked, “Is that our ‘mystery man’ lying down there?”

Also donning a more serious attitude, Chrissie nodded. “Big guy, red hair…. I’d say the chances are good.”

“And you’re sure he’s dead?”

“Yep… A bullet through the forehead…. although I suspect he may have already been dead or very close to it before the bullet. I don’t think he could have been wearing his seatbelt as evidence suggests he was thrown from the vehicle as it rolled down the hill…the bullet was just extra insurance. Mind you, this is all speculation at the moment so don’t quote me. You’ll have to wait for the full forensics and the coroner’s report to come in for the facts.”

“Speaking of which, we should get a team here ASAP…as well as someone from the coroner’s office.”

Bianca retrieved her phone from the deep side pocket of her coveralls where, oddly enough, she also found the small Phillips-head screwdriver she’d been searching for earlier. She called in the incident, requesting a forensics team to be sent to the scene immediately and indicated that there was a deceased victim so the coroner would also be required.

While she had her phone out, Bianca also tried to contact her team. Much to her frustration, Senior Constable Josh Anderson was not answering his phone so Bianca left a brief message on his voice mail, however, she was able to contact Senior Constable Driscoll who assured her that she would pick up her work partner, Constable Murray Ludgate, and be at the scene within the hour.

As she ended the call and dropped her phone back into her pocket, Bianca turned to Chrissie to ask her the details of what had happened but her words were cut off by the sudden wailing of police sirens. They were still off in the distance but rapidly becoming louder as they drew nearer.

“Is that the lot you sent to rescue me?” Chrissie asked incredulously.

Bianca nodded. It was all she could do to cover her frustration with the local officers. At the first opportunity, she would be having a private word with them and letting them know, in no uncertain terms, that she was far from impressed with the speed at which they attended a potentially life-threatening situation. They’d better have a damn good reason for their tardiness or the complaint would be going higher up the chain of command.

“What happened to them? Did they go via New Zealand or something? I could be dead and buried by now if it was left to them.”

“I’m not sure but I’ll be looking into it.”

Seeing that Bianca possibly needed rescuing from her friend’s mounting ire, Janet cued her with a less-than-subtle clearing of her throat.

“Oh. Sorry,” Bianca muttered then, taking the hint, said more loudly, “Chrissie, I’d like you to meet my partner and Senior Prosecutor with the DPP, Janet King. Janet, this is my friend, Dr Christine…Chrissie…Williams… forensics expert and the first woman I ever kissed.”

“But not the last by a long shot,” Chrissie added with a wink, reaching out a hand to Janet, “I’m pleased to finally meet you, albeit under less than ideal circumstances.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Janet asked as they shook hands, “What were you doing down there? You’ve torn your jeans to shreds.”

Chrissie looked down at her jeans then replied with a laugh, “Nah…that’s how I bought them but I did destroy a pair of perfectly good high heel shoes crawling around among the rocks and trees.”

Janet was saved from the embarrassment of her fashion faux pas by the arrival of three police cars, complete with redundant flashing lights and sirens. As the vehicles pulled over, Bianca strode the few metres up the road to speak to the officers. She wouldn’t chew them out now as she had more urgent matters she needed them to deal with and it wouldn’t pay to have them off-side just yet. The crime scene would have to be cordoned off so it was preserved for the forensic team and at least two officers would be required to guard the scene and ensure that the integrity of the site remained intact. One car should also continue on up the mountain in search of the silver SUV. Bianca would provide them with more specifics as to the make and registration number of the car once she had spoken to Chrissie. She sincerely hoped they would be up to the job.

While Bianca explained to the officers what had happened, avoiding all mention of their late arrival, and issued her instructions, Janet stayed with Chrissie.

 “You’ve gone very pale. Do you need to sit down?” Janet said, her voice full of genuine concern.

“I think it’s all just hit me,” Chrissie replied. Suddenly she was feeling very shaky. “It’s not everyday someone tries to run you off a cliff. It might be better if I do sit down. I’m in a bit of shock, I expect.”

Janet walked Chrissie back to Bianca’s car where she opened the door to the back seat for her so she could sit down.

Having explained to the officers exactly what was required of them and then leaving them to it, Bianca walked back down the hill to join the two women. She needed the details of the events from Chrissie while they were all fresh in her mind.

Seeing Janet now standing by the door of her car and her friend sitting in the back seat with her face drained of its usual colour, Bianca asked, “What’s happened?”

“I think she’s suffering from a bit of shock at the moment,” Janet said, “She probably needs to go home although I don’t think she should be left on her own right now.”

Bianca bent down beside the open door so her friend could see her.

“Chrissie, are you alright? Are you feeling up to telling me what happened?”

Chrissie nodded. “I think so.”

“I haven’t got my notebook with me….we left in such a hurry….would you mind if I record this on my phone?”

With Chrissie’s permission, Bianca set her phone to ‘record’ and placed it on the seat beside her.

Bianca initiated the recount by asking, “Chrissie, did you see what happened to the car that is now lying on the mountainside?”

Chrissie nodded as she took her time collecting her thoughts.

“I’d been following that car…a dark blue Commodore… since it left Sid Delaney’s place….It was driving west and as I’d thought, it was heading up into the mountains… I was afraid that once we were alone the driver would figure out I was following him so I hung back as far as possible but my fears proved to be justified… We weren’t far up the mountain when it became clear that he picked up that I was on his tail…he started to speed up and was driving quite recklessly for such a winding road. I was concentrating on staying in touch without getting too close because I didn’t know what he might do and it’s rather isolated countryside. If he stopped I needed space to turn around and get out of there. Then, out of the blue, this silver SUV was in my rear-view mirror. It came right up almost onto the back of my car …. At first, I thought it was going to ram me but instead it attempted to overtake me regardless of the fact that the road was extremely narrow and it was impossible to see if there was a car coming in the opposite direction… That’s when he scraped my side panels as he forced his way past.”

“Did you see who was driving?”

Chrissie shook her head. “Not at first. The windows were heavily tinted and I was too busy trying to stay alive. I can tell you, it took some spectacular driving to keep my car on the road…I could have just as easily met the same fate as our mystery man… in fact, I’m not a hundred percent sure that wasn’t the intention.”

“You didn’t happen to catch the registration number of the SUV, did you?”

Again, Chrissie shook her head. “Like I said, I was too preoccupied with staying alive to notice details but I can tell you that it was a late model…2016? 2017?....Nissan Pathfinder in silver.” Chrissie thought a bit longer before adding, “The first couple of letters could have been a W and S…”

“That’s good, Chrissie. That will help us. What happened after he past you?”

“He took off after the other car… He flew right up behind it and just as it was about to take a bend, he rammed it on the rear, right-hand side sending it careering down the mountain. I don’t think the poor bastard inside ever knew what was happening. It was all so fast.”

Chrissie stopped her story there and took a deep breath. Janet, who had been standing silently by the open door listening intently could see that the woman was still very pale.

“Would you like me to see if I can find you some water?” she asked.

“That would be much appreciated. Thanks,” the woman replied.

“There’s an unopened bottle of water in the boot…. In my gym bag,” Bianca said as she pointed in the general direction of the release button for the boot of her car then turned her attention back to Chrissie. “What did the guy in the SUV do after that?”

After another deep breath, Chrissie continued. “I was a fair way back and decided to pull over but I kept the engine running. I didn’t want to have to drive past the SUV. I didn’t know what he might do. That’s when the driver…a tall guy wearing a black balaclava stepped out of the driver’s side of the car with what I can only presume was a pistol in his hand….I thought about turning the car around and taking off but the road was too narrow so I turned off the engine and decided to leg it into the bush and find some cover.”

“Other than his face which was hidden, can you describe what he looked like?”

“Like I said, he was tall…185cm maybe…fit-looking, muscular. He was wearing a navy-blue T-shirt, jeans and black runners…He was carrying the pistol in his left hand so it’s possible he’s left-handed. I didn’t hang around. I took off into the bushes like the scared rabbit that I was, however, I don’t think he bothered to follow me as it wasn’t long after I’d left the car that I heard the shot. Rather than chase after me, he must have gone down to check out his handiwork and finish off the job. I waited for what seemed like forever then when I heard his car drive off I crept over to what was left of the Commodore….I looked inside but there was no one there so I scouted around… that’s when I found the body of the driver further up the hill…big man, red hair. It was quite clear he had drawn his last breath in this life.”

“Did you touch anything?”

“Sergeant Grieve, do remember who you’re speaking too?” Chrissie answered with mostly feigned offence.

“Sorry….but sometimes in these situations we…”

“Trust me, I might be a bit of a blathering mess now but at the time I kept my wits about me and I didn’t touch a thing. That’s why I came up the slope where I did. I walked around the perimeter of the accident site so as not to disturb anything.”

“Here’s some water,” Janet interrupted as she gave Bianca an apologetic smile and handed a bottle through to Chrissie. 

Chrissie accepted the water gratefully and immediately opened it, taking a long swig. It was a little on the warm side from being in the boot of the car but it was enough to refresh her parched throat and help settle her nerves. Meanwhile, Bianca reached for her phone and switched off the recording.

“I think we’re done here for now but I’ll need to take a more formal statement in the next day or so. I also think it’s best if we err on the side of caution and treat those clothes you’re wearing as potential evidence….and, of course, we’ll need to take your car.”

Chrissie looked over at where her Porsche was parked. Broad welts of silver paint now scarred the entire driver’s side of the vehicle. She wanted to complain but she knew Bianca was simply doing her job and being thorough.

“Fortunately, I have a spare set of clothes in a bag in my car… I was hoping to stay the night with Rose but that obviously isn’t going to eventuate. I’ll be lucky if she’s still talking to me. I didn’t have time to tell her I was leaving so she probably thinks I was bored and took off without a word. Not a good look.” 

Once Chrissie found her fresh set of clothes, she returned to Bianca’s car.

“Mind if I use the back seat of your car as a change room?” she asked, “It could be a bit of a challenge getting dressed in the confined space of the Porsche...I'm not as flexible as I used to be.”

To give her some privacy, Janet and Bianca moved around to the back of the car where Bianca opened the boot and dug out some evidence bags.

Eventually, Chrissie reappeared in denim shorts, a T-shirt and with canvas sneakers on her feet. She dropped each article of removed clothing into an evidence bag which Bianca then sealed and proceeded to label.

Janet looked at her watch. It was now late afternoon. The Larsson’s would be dropping the twins home in less than an hour.

“I guess you’re here for the duration,” Janet said with a note of disappointment as she watched Bianca complete the details on the labels.

 “I’m sorry. This isn’t how I’d planned to spend our Sunday together.” Bianca placed a quick kiss on Janet’s cheek in hope of forgiveness.

 “Chrissie’s right….You _do_ know how to show a girl a good time, don’t you,” Janet said as she turned her head and gave Chrissie a conspiratorial smile which the other woman acknowledged with a wink.

“You’re supposed to be on my side, not hers,” Bianca complained.

“I am on your side. Seriously though, is there any way I can get a lift home? Max and Janice will be dropping the twins off shortly so I need to be there or I suppose I could I ring them and ask if the kids can stay another night? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

“No. No…. You really don’t want to hang around here. It could take hours. I’ll have one of officers drive you home. They can drop Chrissie off too while they’re at it.”

Janet grabbed her phone from the front of Bianca’s car then the three of them walked towards where several of the officers were busy putting up the crime scene tape. Bianca approached one of the officers who stood by, ‘supervising’ the task.

“Constable, this is Janet King and this is Dr Christine Williams. If you’re not too busy, I’d like you to drive them to their homes and perhaps a little faster than it took you to get here.”

oooOooo

The officer assigned the task of taking the two women home followed the road a little further up the mountain until he came to a section where it was marginally wider. There, he carefully manoeuvred a U-turn. Both Janet and Chrissie made a point of securing their seatbelts as he did so.

As they wound their way back towards the city, Janet dug into a pocket and retrieved her phone. She scrolled through her contacts until Deborah’s name and number appeared then tapped the screen.

While she put the phone to her ear and waited for it to ring and connect, Janet turned towards Chrissie and asked, “Are you going to be alright on your own?”

Before Chrissie could reply, Janet’s attention was drawn back to her phone as her call was answered.

“Hi Deborah… Good thanks. You? … Are Janice and Max still there with the twins?”

Not wanting to appear to be listening in although, in such confined quarters, it could hardly be helped, Chrissie tried to relax back into the seat a bit more as she peered out the window, oblivious as to what was actually out there. Instead, she guided her mind through the events of the afternoon – the initial excitement of having possibly found the elusive ‘mystery man’ and the thrill of the chase,  the adrenaline pumping through her body as she followed him across Sydney, then the shock of the silver SUV suddenly looming up behind her so threateningly close which turned to outright fear as, unbelievably, it attempted to overtake her on a road made barely wide enough for two cars to pass cautiously. The screech of metal as the side of the SUV shaved the Porsche still resounded in her ears. It was nothing short of a miracle that she had managed to keep her car on the road.

Even as she replayed what had happened….. the SUV wilfully ramming the other car off the road, the sight of a man wearing a black balaclava striding towards her with what looked like a gun in his hand and her desperate scramble into bushes…. she could feel her heart pounding in her chest just as it had done as she had searched frantically for a place to hide in the mountainside.

The touch of a hand on her arm made her jump in her seat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Janet said apologetically then repeated her previous question. “Do you think you’ll be alright on your own?”

She had finished making her arrangements with Deborah and had returned her phone to her pocket.

Chrissie gave her a small smile and replied, “I’ll be fine but I might use it as an excuse to ask Rose to come over and keep me company…. that’s if she’s talking to me. I can’t believe it’s shaken me like this. It’s not like I haven’t seen the occasional dead body before.”

“It’s probably because the close encounter was a personal one…. sometimes it can be confronting to be reminded of our own mortality….”

“You’re probably right,” Chrissie agreed as she went back to gazing somewhat pensively out her window, mulling over that very point. Janet did the same. Sometimes it took the threat of losing something to really appreciate its value, one’s life being no exception to that rule.

Following a long, slightly awkward silence, Chrissie turned to Janet and, as it wasn’t healthy to dwell on one’s brush with possible death for too long, changed the topic by asking, “How did you and Bianca first meet?”

Janet’s cheeks took on a slight pinkish tinge. She had wondered how long it would be before the conversation headed in this direction.

“She was a police witness in a trial I was running…the Boyd trial…. about five years ago now.”

“You’ve been together five years?”

“No…no,” Janet laughed, “I was with my partner, Ash, at the time but Bianca impressed me with her thoroughness so when I was asked to head a Royal Commission into gun crimes in New South Wales last year, I immediately seconded her for my team.”

“By which time you had broken up with this ‘Ash’ woman?”

Janet dropped her eyes. Her expression became more sombre as she turned her attention to the specks of dried paint on the knees of her coveralls which she scratched at with a fingernail until finally, feeling composed enough to speak, she said, “Not exactly…. Ash was shot…murdered two years before the Royal Commission began.”

Chrissie immediately reached out to console her although it wasn’t entirely necessary. These days she could face the conversation about Ash’s death without being gripped by the overwhelming sadness and pain that would once have almost crippled her, however, she did appreciate other people’s need to be sympathetic.  

Resting a hand on Janet’s which had now stopped picking at the paint, Chrissie said, “Oh. I’m so sorry, Janet. I didn’t know…Bianca didn’t tell me…. not that she should…would….” As Chrissie said those words, a vague memory came to her of hearing on the news or reading in the newspapers…she wasn’t sure which… the story of a woman finding her female partner shot dead on their doorstep with the police unable to find anything significant in the way of clues as to who killed her or even why she was killed. The name, ‘Janet King’ wasn’t quite as well known then in the public domain. “I don’t know how you ever get over something like that.”

Janet looked over at Chrissie and gave her a weak smile, hoping to ease the discomfort she knew the woman was probably feeling at having inadvertently stumbled onto such a sensitive topic.

“Learning to accept help has made it easier although I don’t think you ever really get over it ….and I don’t know that I even want to get over it completely. I loved her and I want to remember her and the pain is part of that, I guess…. Instead, you learn to work with it…or around it…Who knows?…. Having the children there helped get me through the worst of it…...You have to find some way to cope, as much for the sake of your family and friends as for yourself.”

“I suppose you do,” Chrissie said quietly, privately cursing her foot-in-mouth disease.

“While Bianca and I were working on the RC,” Janet continued, much to Chrissie’s surprise, “we got to know one another quite well…she’s a good person…. she didn’t push…. she just let me know in subtle ways that she was there if I needed her… and there was a mutual attraction which we couldn’t ignore…. one thing led to another…you know how it goes.”

“I do indeed,” Chrissie replied, relieved that the wound she’d pressed wasn’t too raw.

Again, they each retreated into their own thoughts. Janet concentrated on the exercise she’d be given in order to pack away those past events into her long-term memory once more while Chrissie was still mentally kicking herself for being so nosey.

“Bianca tells me you’re dating Sid Delaney’s daughter,” Janet finally said as much to perhaps gain some information as to make a U-turn in the conversation.

“Mmm…I am, although, after today’s debacle, maybe I’m not.”

“Once you explain, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“Possibly,” Chrissie said with a wry laugh, “but I doubt she’ll make it easy for me. She can be a little highly strung.”

More interested at the moment in Sid Delaney than Chrissie’s relationship with Rose, Janet asked, “What happened exactly….at the Delaney’s place? What was the ‘mystery man’ doing there?”

Chrissie took a minute or two to put the story in order in her own mind and searched for a place to start.

“Sid Delaney was having this informal lunch, barbecue thing…. well, informal by their standards, very posh by anyone else’s.…caviar on little bits of hard-as-nails bread, French champagne and not just your generic supermarket variety-snags on the barbecue, thank you very much…. There was lamb and rosemary, wagyu beef and garlic, chicken and thyme …. You get the gist… plus, there were enough different varieties of salads to overwhelm even the most dedicated vegan. My guess is that there were about thirty people there…. some were family members but it was mostly friends and business pals. He was celebrating finally having Council give approval for his latest project which, I gather, has taken some effort. Rose was explaining to me that he wanted to build an upmarket shopping mall with all the trimmings including a restaurant quarter…. like we don’t have enough of those in Sydney…but a small group of local councillors had previously refused to sign off on the plans as it meant developing waterfront land that is, or was, designated as parkland and they wanted it left as such.”

Janet listened intently. She could feel an idea teasing the ends of her synapses but she wasn’t sure what it was yet so she allowed Chrissie to continue uninterrupted.

“Apparently, he had one or two adjustments made to the plans, resubmitted them and they were approved accordingly. Of course, the death of Councillor Bradshaw eased the way.”

“Lance Bradshaw? Why?”  Janet’s attention was now fully piqued.

“He was the councillor most vocal in his opposition to the plans and he had a small but significant band of merry councillors who followed him. The development is to be near where he lives…lived… and those in his division weren’t at all pleased with having such a development right on their front doorstep spoiling their million-dollar views.”

Janet’s brain was beginning to fire as inklings of evidence reached out to her but the pathway was still not fully formed.

“How does the man lying dead on the side of the mountain come into the picture?” Janet asked, keen to know more.

“I’m not sure what he was doing at Delaney’s place. All I know is that our Sergeant Grieve asked me to keep my eye out for anything unusual so that’s what I did. Rose and I were standing out on the back lawn beside the pool drinking champagne and talking to Rose’s mother, Margaret, and her friend, Denise…. Now there’s an interesting relationship.”

Janet tilted her head in question. “Interesting in what way?”

“If I didn’t know better, I would have said that they were a tad more than friends.”

 “Really?”

“I’m not totally certain but the usual signs were there… those unnecessary but familiar touches…the body language… the looks that passed between them…. my gaydar was definitely pinging.”

Janet gave her a slightly dubious eye roll.

“Ah ha…Stranger things have happened, Ms King…. Anyway, I digress.  While we were talking, there was the sound of a phone…We all went for our pockets, as you do, but it was Margaret’s phone that was ringing. One look at the screen and her face turned to thunder. She moved away to answer it but not before giving Denise the strangest of looks which had me wondering …...”

Chrissie stopped her recount mid-sentence and an expression of sudden realisation crossed her face.  A penny had dropped.

“What is it?” Janet asked.

“It just occurred to me that Margaret introduced her friend to us as ‘Denise Bradshaw’…. Could she be….”

“Lance Bradshaw’s wife,” Janet said, finishing her sentence for her, “Her name is definitely Denise so I think it’s safe to assume they are one and the same…A smallish woman with dark hair cut in that fashionable…what do they call it? Asymmetrical cut?”

“That’s her.”

“I can understand how they would mix in the same circles but I have the distinct feeling there’s too many coincidences here.” Janet’s curiosity was now well and truly roused. “What happened after the phone call?”

“I kept half an eye on Margaret while she was talking as did Denise, I noted, and although she had her back to us, it was quite obvious that she was less than happy with the person she was speaking to, hanging up after only a minute or two. When she came back to join us, Rose asked her if everything was alright but Margaret fobbed off the matter saying it was a business call and then she went back to being her cheerful self again although it seemed more forced and I did pick up a look of concern that passed between her and Denise. A few minutes later, Margaret excused herself and headed for the house. Being on a mission as I was, I decided to follow her using the ruse of having to go to the bathroom. She went inside but headed straight for a side door and made her way into a more secluded part of the grounds where our mystery man was waiting for her. I watched through a kitchen window but I couldn’t see very well from there so I dashed up the stairs to the next floor where there was a much better view from the balcony of Roses’ bedroom.”

“What were they talking about?” Janet asked.

 “I was too far away to hear what was being said, however, it was very clear that there was a definite disagreement between the two. This guy was tall and built like a brick outhouse. He had a very fair complexion and his hair, the colour of rust, was cropped very short. It didn’t register at first that he could be our mystery man but when he began walking off and I saw that he had a decided limp with a preference for his right leg, the thought struck me.  Once I realised this, I decided to follow him so I hot-footed it to my car and…. Well, the rest you know. Just between you and me, in hindsight, it probably was a bit of a foolish decision to take off on my own but if you tell Bianca I admitted that, I will deny saying it.”

“My lips are sealed,” Janet assured her, “but why did you wait so long to contact Bianca?”

“I tried calling her as soon as I left but I couldn’t get the fu… stupid phone to connect…I’m not sure if it was the phone or our wonderful, ‘state-of-the-art’ telecommunication system that was at fault.”

Chrissie stopped there in order to take a mouthful of her water. Her throat was parched and she was starting to feel light-headed again. Janet peered out the window, noting as she did so that the view was no longer of bushland but of warehouses and storage units and the road was now multi-lane with an almost constant stream of cars and trucks zipping by in both directions.

_“Lance Bradshaw conveniently dies just when Delaney resubmits his plans for a multibillion- dollar development, the mystery man responsible for killing Michael Collins and possibly Bradshaw is seen at Sid Delaney’s place talking to Mrs Delaney of all people, he is then deliberately run off the road and shot dead by another person unknown and, to top things off, Lance Bradshaw’s wife is cosy with the Delaney family…. How does this all fit together?” Janet wondered to herself for she was certain that it did fit together somehow._

The next kilometre or so passed in relative quiet although it was broken at regular intervals by the harsh sound of the police radio and the noise of the ever-increasing volume of traffic. Now that they were approaching the city, the officer asked Janet where exactly he was to take her. Janet gave him Bianca’s address which he put into his GPS.

Janet looked at the time on her phone, took note of where they were and then calculated how long it would be before she was home. Barring any traffic jams, she should make it home before Max and Janice arrived with the kids.

“Did I hear you say you had children?” Chrissie asked.

“Mmmm…yes, twins…a boy and a girl…. Liam and Emma. They're 5...nearly six years old now.”

“Wow! How do you cope with such a demanding job and young twins?  They should call you Super Janet.”

“That would be a huge exaggeration,” Janet laughed, “sometimes it is very much touch and go as to whether I do cope or not. Thankfully, I have a very reliable nanny and one or two wonderful friends who come to my rescue in times of need, including Bianca.”

“Bianca? Really?”

“Yes. You sound surprised.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be…she’s always been good with her nephew and niece…. it’s just that in the past she’s generally made a point of not dating women who have children…but like I say, that was in the past. Besides, you do know she’s besotted with you, don’t you?”

Janet had no reply to that question other than a modest smile. She knew how she felt about Bianca and she thought that Bianca felt the same but neither had dared to use the ‘L’ word as yet. Would having the twins discourage Bianca from perhaps ever using it?

“When I was younger,” Chrissie continued, unaware of the doubts she had put in Janet’s mind, “I thought that I might like to have a couple of kids but there never seemed to be a convenient time to do it and now it’s too late…. well, technically, it’s not too late but I think I’m too set in my ways now…too selfish….and they’re such a game changer.”

“They certainly do change your life,” Janet agreed, “They make it very complicated in some ways but, at the same time, they also make it very simple. Everything you do is about what is best for them… you always put your children first.”

They had now entered the city suburbs. The Sydney Harbour Bridge loomed large in the foreground. The houses they were passing started to look familiar and it wasn’t too much longer before the officer was double parking outside Bianca’s house.

“It’s been good to meet you,” Janet said as she once again reached out to shake Chrissie’s hand.

“Likewise,” Chrissie replied, “Bianca owes me dinner. You must come too.”

“That would be lovely. Thank you.” With those last friendly words, Janet opened the car door and stepped out onto the footpath. After a final, brief wave, she turned and headed along the pathway to Bianca’s door while the police car slowly rolled off down the narrow laneway. It wasn’t until Janet was almost to the end of the path that she realised she didn’t have a key and wouldn’t be able to get inside to change back into her own clothes. She’d have to go home in what she was wearing. She patted her overall pockets searching for the one where she’d put her car keys, grateful that at the last moment she had decided to pick them up and take them with her.

On the drive home Janet tossed over the pieces of information she now had, trying to make sense of it all. Also nagging her subconscious was the thought that Bianca had, in the past, tended to avoid relationships that involved children. Had Bianca changed her mind about this or was it too early in the relationship for her to be concerned? Would it affect them if things were to become more serious and their lives were to intertwine on a more permanent, full-time basis?

Janet had only just managed to make it home and change out of the painting overalls when Janice and Max landed on the doorstep with the twins. With only the most fleeting of hellos and hugs, Liam raced into the playroom with Max tagging behind carrying the box that contained the precious train set. Emma hung around long enough to show her mother the photos on Nana Lars phone of the things she had made with her newly-acquired Lego set before she too was running off to the playroom.

“How was your day?” Janice asked as the two women strolled into the kitchen for a much-needed glass of wine.

oooOooo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 “You can go if you want, Sergeant. Murray and I can take it from here,” Senior Constable Cathy Driscoll said to her boss, Sergeant Grieve, “there’s not much else left to do and you’ve been here for hours.”

The forensics team had arrived not long after being alerted to the situation and the photographers had gone straight to work capturing the most minute detail of both the path the vehicle had taken, including the surrounding area, the vehicle itself and the body of the victim.

Once a comprehensive recording of the scene was completed, only one photographer remained on site, waiting to be called upon should the other forensic and police officers who had been poring over the scene, discover anything of significance that needed chronicling. Now that person was packing up and leaving as were the rest of the forensics squad.

The crime scene had been a hive of industrious activity for several hours but daylight was diminishing to the point where it was impractical to continue and the risk of missing some valuable clue was high so the search was winding up. Normally, portable spotlighting would be brought in and the work would continue until the job was complete but because of the precarious nature of the terrain and the difficulty it would cause setting up the lights, Bianca had made the call to pack things up for the evening and to commence again first thing in the morning. The other contributing factor to her decision was that the only remaining task was the removal of the wreckage from the hillside, a challenging enough job in broad daylight let alone in the darkness, spotlights or no spotlights.

“Thanks, Cathy…. There’s nothing more we can do until morning so I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” Bianca replied, “I’ve organised with the locals to have a couple of officers remain on site throughout the night to make sure nothing is tampered with in any way but can you….”

“I’ll double check that they’re on the job…. Now go. Your work here is done,” Driscoll insisted as she shooed Bianca away.

With a grateful smile, Bianca fished her car keys from her pocket and walked off, leaving the job of supervising the packing up in the more-than-capable hands of her Senior Constable.

oooOooo

The hallway was in darkness and her footsteps echoed on the timber floorboards as Bianca entered her empty house, turning on lights as she moved from one room to the next, stopping off in the kitchen to search through the fridge for food as her stomach was reminding her that it had been hours since she had last eaten. As she pulled loose a drumstick from the remains of a roast chicken and then headed up the stairs to change, she wondered what Janet and the kids would be having for dinner. Sunday night was usually pesto and pasta.

She continued on up the stairs, past her bedroom to the study where she and Janet had been busy painting before all hell had broken loose. Bianca couldn’t help a laugh when she spotted, abandoned on the floor, the caps they had been wearing, remembering Chrissie’s comment and the look that had passed between Janet and herself.

A quick survey around the small room with its high ceilings and tongue-and-groove walls showed that they had managed to complete almost half of the undercoating before they’d had to down tools and run to the rescue.

Bianca walked across to where the two trays of paint they had been using were sitting on the dropsheet that protected the polished floor. A thick skin had formed over the top of the paint that had been left. Rather than waste it, Bianca opened the tin of undercoat with a screwdriver, peeled back the skin and wrapped it in some newspaper and poured back what she could of the paint before putting the lid back on, giving it a solid thump with the rubber mallet to make sure it was airtight.

Beside the trays were the two rollers they had been using. She picked them up, cursing  under her breath as she did so. They had been laden with paint when they had been ditched which had now set hard. They would need a good soaking if they were to be of any use ever again. She took then down into the laundry and dropped them in a bucket which she filled with water and then left them to stand overnight. The only thing she now needed to clean-up was herself.

After stepping from the shower and putting on fresh clothes, Bianca strolled out onto her balcony where she stood by the wrought-iron railing taking in the view of the harbour with its iconic bridge just as she and Janet had done on Janet’s first visit after her long absence. The depth of her feelings for Janet made it hard for her to believe it had only been a matter of a few weeks since that particular night had happened but even back then her feelings had been strong. Despite all that had happened today, standing here alone, Janet was most prominent in her thoughts. She could honestly say to herself that she loved the woman perhaps more than anyone she had ever loved before and right now she missed having her by her side.

Eventually, a breeze that gave the air a slight chill drove her back inside to her bedroom where she wandered about aimlessly. She returned her towel to the ensuite and dropped her painting overalls in the laundry basket; she plumped the pillows on her bed and smoothed out the quilt cover. Even though it had been a long and busy day, Bianca was feeling restless and anything but tired. She looked at her phone that was sitting on the bedside table and her first thought was to call Janet. Her second thought, which maybe should have been her first, was to see how Chrissie was fairing but her third thought was that she might be sleeping or with Rose or both. Maybe she would call Janet after all.  Then she looked at the pile of neatly folded clothes that sat on the end of the bed, the ones Janet had exchanged for the painting coveralls and realised that Janet wouldn’t have been able to unlock the house to retrieve them. A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth at the thought of her driving home in the paint-spattered coveralls and at the fact that Janet’s clothes still being here gave her a legitimate excuse to see her that night.

She looked at the time. It was a little after eight thirty. Was it too late to be dropping by unannounced? Probably but Bianca decided that she would risk it.

oooOooo

Standing on Janet’s front doorstep, Bianca was having second thoughts as to the wisdom of her rather impulsive decision. Suddenly she wasn’t feeling at all confident that her presence would be welcome. Would Janet think she was being needy?  It wasn’t too late to turn and leave without anyone being any the wiser. 

Eventually, she decided to stay. She gathered up her courage and put a hand to the door knocker, hoping that the story of wanting to return the clothes wasn’t too transparent and, in case it was, she had added a bottle of wine from her small cellar as an offering.

Surprised by the loud tap on the door so late at night, Janet excused herself and went to answer it. Her first instinct was to be delighted to see that her unexpected visitor was Bianca, however, it made the situation rather awkward with the Larsson’s there too.

“I didn’t call…I hope that’s okay,” Bianca said, sensing Janet’s surprise.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I thought you might be needing these.” Bianca presented a large, paper shopping bag. “It’s your clothes…the ones you left at my place when we were painting.”

“You didn’t have to go to the bother of bringing them over tonight…. It could have waited until tomorrow,” Janet said, then realising the excuse for what it was, quickly added, “but I’m glad you did….Um… Come in.”

Noticing Janet’s hesitation, Bianca asked, “Are you sure? It’s not too late? I can go if…”

“No…um… please stay…. Ash’s parents are here, that’s all. They dropped the twins off but that’s okay.”

Unsure as to how the Larsson’s would react to her having another partner and not having had the chance to sound them out on the idea before meeting Bianca, Janet had considered for a split second not inviting Bianca to stay but almost immediately she berated herself for such thoughts. Procrastination was for cowards and she had never been a coward.

“Oh, I didn’t realise you had visitors. I’ll go,” Bianca offered.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Janet said, catching Bianca’s free hand in both of her own as she was about to turn and leave. “I want you to stay…. Alright?”

Bianca smiled and nodded but as extra reinforcement of her sincerity, Janet drew her over the threshold and into a tender kiss which was, unfortunately, cut short by the cry of ‘Bibi!” as young Liam ran towards the doorway.

While Emma remained absorbed in her Lego construction in the playroom, Liam’s curiosity as to who was keeping his mother at the door for so long had peaked and he’d gone to see for himself despite his grandparents’ attempts to deter him. He was more than pleased to see that it was Bianca, rushing over and wrapping his arms firmly around her legs in a hug. Bianca squatted down so that they were at eye-level.

“Hi, monster,” she said as she scruffed his curls and returned the hug while Janet watched on with interest.

“Are you staying?” he asked eagerly as she stood up once more.

Bianca looked over at Janet and said, “I guess I am…. for a little while anyway.”

“Do you want to see my train set?” Liam asked, his excitement brimming over as he took Bianca’s hand and was about to lead her towards the playroom.

“Liam, Bianca can see your train set another day… tomorrow perhaps. It’s way past your bedtime. You and Emma need to pack up your toys and say goodnight to your nana and pop then head off to bed,” Janet said in a tone that signalled she wasn’t to be messed with.

Liam looked up at Bianca with his best ‘hang dog’ expression hoping to find an ally but he was out of luck.

“I promise I’ll take a look tomorrow and you can show me how everything works,” Bianca said, “off you go.”

“Okay,” he said, giving in reluctantly.

“I’ll be up in a moment to tuck you and Emma in…just as soon as I introduce Bianca to Nana and Pop Larsson,” Janet called after him.

While Liam headed off to the playroom room to collect Emma and then to say his goodnights, Bianca presented Janet with the bottle of red wine.

“Here, I brought this for you as well.”

“Thanks.” Janet relieved Bianca of the bottle. “Want some now? We might need it,” she said ominously as she subtly checked out the label.

“Yes, please.”

Together, they made their way towards the kitchen and the wine glasses.

In the kitchen, Janice had put out two mugs and was busily searching for the makings of tea. As she opened the pantry looking for the tea bags, she heard Janet enter the room. Without turning, she said, “I’m making tea. Would you like a cup?”

Janet took a deep breath. “No, thank you. Bianca and I thought we’d have a glass of wine. You’re welcome to join us, if you like.”

Realising someone else was present, Mrs Larsson turned to see who was there. “Oh. Hello. Sorry, I didn’t know we had a visitor. Are you sure you won’t have a cup of tea?” she asked as she finally found the canister filled with teabags.

“No, thanks,” Bianca said politely.

After another deep breath, Janet said, “Janice, this is Bianca Grieve, my…um…partner. Bianca, this is Ash’s mum…the twins’ grandmother, Janice Larsson.”

Mrs Larsson closed the pantry door, placed the canister on the bench and without a word, she moved around the kitchen island. For one horrible moment, Janet thought she was walking out but instead, much to her relief, Janice made her way over to Bianca, held her arms out to her and in traditional Larsson-style, drew her into a friendly embrace.

“It’s good to meet you, Bianca,” she said as she finally released her.

“You too,” replied a rather overwhelmed Bianca.

Then, for good measure, the woman gave Janet a hug as well. It was a hug filled with an affection that, until she had met the Larssons, Janet was unfamiliar with. She blinked back the tears that filmed her eyes as she took in the wonderful sensation of being wrapped in the love and acceptance of those encompassing arms.

Just as the two women stepped apart once more, Max walked into the room looking for his cup of tea.

“My throat’s as dry as a des…..” He cut his complaint short on seeing an unfamiliar face in the room.

“Max, this is Bianca Grieve….Bianca and I are…..” Janet struggled a little to find the right words. “We’re…um… together… it’s all fairly new but…. Bianca is my partner. Bianca, this is Max Larsson.”

Max reached across and took Bianca’s hand in his own large, rough hand and shook it vigorously.

“Pleased to meet you, Bianca.”

“And you too, Mr Larsson.”

“What’s this Mr Larsson rubbish? Call me Max. ‘Mr Larsson’ makes me sound like some crotchety, old fart….which I can be at times, I admit, but nevertheless, ‘Max’ is fine.”

“Pleased to meet you, Max.”

Bianca gave him her best smile, relieved that the Larsson’s seemed accepting of her and that Max had finally stopped shaking her hand.

Again, Janet had to hold back tears. Unlike her own parents, of course this generous couple would be fully understanding of her need for love once more.

“Bianca and I are having a glass of wine, if you’d like to join us.”

“I have to drive home soon, love, so best I stick to a cup of tea,” Max replied.

“Why don’t you stay here tonight? There’s a spare room with a double bed and you’re more than welcome, you know that.”

Max looked over at his wife and then back at Janet. “Sure. Why not? Now where’s the wine glasses?”

While Janet reached down the glasses, out of the corner of her eye Bianca caught sight of some movement on the stairs. When she looked over properly, she spied Liam and Emma perched on the top step, silently watching proceedings. Janet followed her gaze and spotted them too. She was about to march off and see them back to bed but Bianca, sensing Janet had some unfinished explaining to do with the Larsson’s, caught her by the wrist and whispered, “You stay. I’ll look after them,” then politely excused herself and made her way to the top of the stairs.

“How about I read you a story,” she said as she reached them and gently took hold of a hand of each child and led them back to their bedroom.

oooOooo

While Bianca huddled in on the lower bunk with an eager listener leaning against each shoulder and “Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone” in her hand, Janet remained in the kitchen where she was decanting the red wine into the glasses.

“She seems lovely, your Bianca,” Janice said as she took the proffered glass, “and the twins have certainly taken to her.”

“She is and they have,” Janet replied, feeling a tinge of pink creep into her cheeks. She wasn’t used to discussing her personal life with others. It wasn’t that it was any big secret but it was…. well, personal. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind? Why would I mind?” Janice was genuinely bemused.

“Oh…I don’t know exactly… I thought you and Max might think …..” Janet hesitated. She didn’t wish to upset these people who had always been so kind to her by underestimating them.

“Might think what, love?” Janice placed a concerned hand on Janet’s arm.

“I’m not sure….That it was too soon perhaps?... That I was forgetting Ash…?”

Janice gripped Janet’s arm a little more firmly. “We know that you will always love Ash and remember her….How could you not with those two lively scallywags around?” Janice gestured towards the twins’ bedroom. “And to be honest, Max and I have been worried that out of a sense of some sort of loyalty to Ash, maybe you wouldn’t put yourself out there again. We hate to think of you being alone.”

“We all need to feel loved, Janet, and it also makes us better people to give love,” Max said, tossing in his two cents worth, “so trust me when I say, this is wonderful news. Make the most of it. We want you to be happy and I’m sure Ash would too.”

For the second time that evening, Janet’s eyes became watery with tears which she only just managed to contain. She should have known they would be nothing other than pleased for her but for reasons which a psychologist would have a field day analysing, their constant understanding and deep compassion always took her by surprise.

Noticing Janet struggling with her emotions, Max decided to lighten the mood by raising his glass in a toast.

“To new beginnings,” he called cheerily.

Just as they were chinking their glasses in agreement, Bianca strolled back into the kitchen and seeing the raised glasses, wondered what she was missing.

“Are they asleep?” Janet asked as she handed Bianca the glass of wine she had poured for her as well as surprising her with a kiss to the cheek.

“They’re in bed and drifting off but I promised I would send you up to say goodnight to them.”

“Excuse me. I’ll be back shortly,” Janet said to Janice and Max as she put her glass on the bench and headed for the stairs but not before confusing Bianca further with a broad but unexplained smile.

oooOooo

Keeping true to her word, Janet was back downstairs after only a few minutes as both children were fast asleep. She had lightly kissed each forehead, whispered her goodnights as promised then tiptoed out of the room, turning off all but the night light as she did so.

On her return, she found that the group had retired to the comfort of the living room so she collected her drink from the kitchen bench where she had left it and went in to join them, dropping herself into the empty spot on the sofa next to Bianca who was now deep in discussion with Max about what Janet could only conclude was home renovating from the few words that she picked up; words such as ‘architrave,’ ‘bullnose,’ ‘cornice’ and ‘skirting board’. She raised a questioning eyebrow to Janice who also sat on the outskirts of the conversation. The woman answered with an equally-bewildered shrug.

 Content to simply enjoy the affability of the company, Janet relaxed deeper into the sofa, tucking her feet up underneath her and resting a hand comfortably on Bianca’s thigh, as she listened to the friendly banter. With her job being what it was, most of her days were made up of conflict and confrontation. This made for a pleasant contrast.

On draining the last mouthful of wine from her glass, Janet rose from the sofa and asked if anyone would like a refill. Both Max and Janice declined the offer. Having looked at the time and realising the lateness of the hour, they decided that they too should retire to bed.

 After they had wished Bianca a good evening, Janice hugging her once more and Max again shaking her hand, Janet accompanied them up to the spare bedroom and showed them where everything was that they might possibly need while Bianca resumed her position on the lounge, contentedly sipping her drink, having enjoyed the sense of family that the evening had unexpectedly brought. She had her brother, Graham, and his wife, her good friend Tahlia, as well as their two young children as her own family but apart from the occasional baby-sitting gig, they didn’t see each other as often as they might these days as life was hectic for all concerned and their paths rarely crossed. Although it wasn’t something that Bianca consciously missed or craved, she was always taken a little unawares by how much pleasure it gave her to be part of such gatherings, however, short bursts were preferable to keep the novelty, she decided.

Janet soon returned to join Bianca on the sofa. Finally, at the end of a long, rather frenetic day, they were alone and able to indulge in some time to themselves. When Bianca had first arrived, Janet had been keen to fill her in, at the first opportunity, on all that Chrissie had told her on the ride home but she was no longer in the mood for talking, instead she crooked a finger under Bianca’s chin; the blue of her eyes which could be, on occasion, as hard as diamonds when she needed to stare down the most recalcitrant of criminals, were tonight burning on a much gentler flame as they fixed on Bianca’s face. She brushed a thumb lightly across that wonderful mouth then, coaxing Bianca a little closer, put her lips gently to each brow, each eyelid and the very tip of her nose. In turn, Bianca grasped Janet’s free hand and pressed her own lips against the tip of each finger and into its palm. As she released it, the two women drifted together into a soft, languorous kiss, both of them savouring the tenderness of the other’s touch as mouths met, parted then met once more while tongues insinuated themselves languidly into the warmth beyond their own lips.

As Janet took her lips away which she eventually did with some reluctance, she rested her forehead against Bianca’s and wrapped her arms loosely around Bianca’s neck. The room was still except for the pounding of hearts and the sound of them catching their breath.

“Are you staying the night?” Janet managed to ask, her voice thick from a sudden swell of emotion.

Bianca’s common sense tussled gallantly with her libido.

“I’d love to… You know that…. but I have an early start tomorrow….. I have to…”

Janet rested a finger across Bianca’s lips.

“It’s okay…. I’ll look forward to it another time,” she said, her tone and expression now patently flirtatious. Although disappointed, Janet understood better than most, the call of duty.

Bianca rose from the sofa and prepared to leave, not trusting her willpower to hold out if she stayed too much longer. Janet walked with her to the door.

“Thank you for bringing my clothes back,” she said as they both stood in the doorway, unwilling to part quite yet, “and the wine.”

“No problem,” Bianca replied with a slight blush, knowing full well the transparency of her flimsy excuse. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure…. I’ll call you. Oh, and make sure you talk to Chrissie ASAP. She told me some things on the way back that I think you’ll find very interesting.”

“Right. She should be in to make her statement tomorrow. I’ll talk to her then…..Night.”

After a comparatively chaste kiss, Bianca turned and walked quickly to where her car was parked for it would take only a slight tug for her to be back inside and in Janet’s bed making love to her and to hell with the early start. Janet’s eyes followed as Bianca crossed the road, mentally willing her to change her mind but when she heard the car door close and saw the vehicle pull out from the kerb, she conceded defeat, pulling her door shut, turning the key in the lock and retreating to her bedroom for some well-earned sleep.

oooOooo

Bianca had been the first to return to the scene of the previous day’s drama. As she pulled over to the side of the road as far as she dared and stepped out of her car, from high in the trees, the distinctive morning warble of the magpie sounded out across the valley below and amid the bushes not too far off she could hear the thrashing of leaves as a local scrub turkey searched for its breakfast.  

The thin veil of cloud that had settled on the mountainside during the night had gradually risen and drifted on as the sun steadily emerged above the horizon, bringing both light and warmth to the air. It was going to be a fine day, weather-wise at least, Bianca decided as she stood on the edge of the road and noted the vast expanse of sky that stretched out before her as she peered back towards the city, its blueness interrupted occasionally by the sparse spread of cirrus clouds tinted shades of pink by the rising sun. 

Instead of standing there twiddling her thumbs as she waited for others to arrive, Bianca decided to do a bit of reconnaissance so she could accurately advise on the best manner in which to haul the wreck from its resting place with the least amount of disturbance to what may prove to be vital evidence.

Once she had donned a fresh Tyvek suit and booties, it was simply a matter of following the savage scar the toppling car had left on the hillside, down to where its momentum had been abruptly stalled by the trunk of a large gum tree.

As she made her descent, Bianca instinctively kept her eyes peeled for anything that may have been flung from the car as it rolled, any piece that might help put together this puzzle. The area had been thoroughly scoured the previous afternoon but you could never tell what a fresh set of eyes might see.

Back up at the road, several other official vehicles were arriving. Senior Constable Driscoll and her partner, Constable Murray Ludgate alighted from one these. After scouting the area and seeing that her sergeant was preoccupied down at the wreck, Driscoll took matters in hand up at the top, assigning tasks to each of the ‘uniforms’.

Meanwhile, Bianca slowly stalked the vehicle that lay on its back like a doomed beetle, taking in every detail. While she would have loved to have poked her head through one of the windows for a closer look or opened the glovebox in the hopes of finding some identification, she refrained as she knew she must until the forensic scientists had had a chance to go over it.

At the rear of the vehicle, she bent down on her haunches to inspect more closely the damage caused by the SUV. She could clearly see that chips of chrome and silver auto-paint were embedded in the metal. It should be an easy enough task to confirm a match once they located the other vehicle.

As she squatted there, engrossed in her thoughts, she suddenly became aware of the sound of snapping twigs and the scrunch of dry grass behind her. She stood and turned towards the noise to find Senior Constable Josh Anderson walking towards her.

“Morning, Sarge,” he said cheerfully, smiling down from his lofty height as he was a good 10-12 centimetres taller that Bianca. “Mind if I take a look too?”

“Morning, Anderson,” Bianca replied although it came out as more of a grumble. The man had been incommunicado when she needed him the day before and now he was standing only metres away from evidence at a crime scene without a protective suit on. “Don’t come any closer. You’re not wearing a Tyvek suit,” she instructed while thinking, “ _and, damn it, you should know better.”_ She had been less than impressed with his performance since he had joined her team and she couldn’t help asking herself how, at barely thirty, he had made ‘Senior Constable’ when there were a number of far more experienced and competent people, mostly women, on her team who had been turned down for promotion. It was a rhetorical question. She knew the answer. He was a male and some, not Bianca, but others, would say he was ‘charismatic.’ He could confidently talk the talk even if he wasn’t capable of walking the walk and despite the findings and recommendations of Elizabeth Broderick’s 2016 “Cultural Change” report, the ‘Boys’ Club’ was alive and well in the AFP and it would be some time before any changes would have a lasting effect. Readjusting deeply-entrenched attitudes was always a slow and painful process.

Anderson held up his open hands in a gesture of surrender and stepped back a couple of paces as he asked more meekly, “Has anything been found?”

“Oh, apart from a dead body, you mean?” Bianca replied then, thinking that her sarcastic tone probably wasn’t constructive (although it felt good), added more civilly, “but very little else of significance. You’d have to think there’d be a phone or a wallet somewhere but the search yesterday didn’t find anything outside the car so perhaps we’ll have more luck once the inside has been checked. For now, we’ll have to wait and see what forensics come up with…. Speaking of finding things, did anything turn up in the search of the Collins’ house?”

Anderson scratched his chin thoughtfully. “We searched the place high and low….in the ceiling, inside toilet cisterns, under beds and a couple of loose floorboards…. and came up with nothing except dirty jocks and socks and a whole lot of porn magazines….no phones, no secret stash of money or drugs …. nothing.”

“Damn,” she muttered as she shook her head in exasperation.

  With nothing left for her to do down here, Bianca began to scramble her way back up the slope.

“Are you coming?” she called back to SC Anderson who, as yet, hadn’t budged.

“I might have a bit of a poke around for myself, if you don’t mind,” he replied as he snuck his hand into his coat pocket to retrieve his packet of cigarettes and lighter.

Bianca stopped her climbing and turned to answer him.

“Just don’t poke too close to the car. Understood?”

Anderson signalled his comprehension with a quick salute, much to her irritation, however, she chose to ignore it and continued to make her way up the slope instead.

By the time Bianca had stepped foot back on the road and discarded her protective suit, SC Driscoll was at her side greeting her.

“Morning, Sergeant Grieve.”

“Morning, Cathy. What’s happening?” Bianca looked around to see who was there and made a mental list of what needed to be done.

“I’ve put two….”

SC Driscoll was interrupted by the loud ringing of Bianca’s phone. Excusing herself, Bianca quickly retrieved the phone from her pocket. A look at the screen told her she had a text message from Janet which, on opening, simply said, “Good morning. XOX.”

Knowing that Janet was thinking of her this early in the morning put a grin on her face and she could feel a slight blush of colour rush to her cheeks as she put the phone back in her pocket.

Turning back to Driscoll, she said, “Sorry, Cathy. Some information pertaining to another matter…. Nothing important. What were you saying?”

“I’ve stationed two ‘uniforms’ further up the road and another pair down the hill. They’ll use walkie-talkies to control any traffic once we’re under way and, as you can see, the truck driver has arrived with several side-kicks. They’re over there with Murray reliving some ‘epic’ football game last I heard.”

Driscoll indicated with a nod a little further up the hill to where a large, flat-bed truck was parked. A powerful-looking winch system was attached to the back of it. A crane to lift the car clear of all the debris would have been ideal but given the narrowness of the road and the steep hillside, all advice told her that it would be, at best, very dangerous and, at worst, virtually impossible so they would have to settle for clearing away as many impediments as they could and then using the winch to drag the body of twisted metal up the hill.

Constable Ludgate and four burly men in bright orange overalls and steel-capped boots were in a huddle beside the truck talking and from the passion and conviction with which they each spoke, it could only be assumed that they were still discussing football. Bianca took strides towards them, anxious now to get things underway. Driscoll walked beside her.

“I chased up the guys at the local police station in the town at the top and asked if anyone had seen a late model silver Nissan SUV that didn’t belong …. the locals usually know who drives what…”

“What did they say?” Bianca asked, not wanting her to stray too far from the point.

“An SUV that fits our description was reported abandoned just north of the town yesterday afternoon….at 4:15 pm.”

 “That fits our time line,” Bianca said, her eyes now bright with interest as Driscoll continued. They had stopped walking and Bianca now faced the senior constable, hanging off her every word.

“It had been dumped in the car park of the National Park and whoever left it had tried to destroy any evidence by setting fire to it, however, one of the local residents drove into the carpark to use the toilet block and possibly disturbed our guy.” Driscoll took her notebook from her pocket and flicked through until she found the pages she needed. “A Mr Callum McIlroy…. He pulled into the car park only three bays up from the SUV. When he walked past it to go to the toilet block, he smelled petrol. He automatically looked at the SUV to see where the smell was coming from and saw that the fuel cap had been removed and there was a rag hanging from the petrol tank. The corner of the rag was singed so I’d say someone had tried unsuccessfully to light it and before they could try again our Mr McIlroy showed up.”

“Did this Mr McIlroy see anyone about at the time?” Bianca asked.

Driscoll shook her head. “No… but they couldn’t have been too far away although they would have been able to quickly disappear from sight into the National Park.”

“Whoever it was they wouldn’t be happy that they were interrupted,” Bianca said as much to herself as to SC Driscoll, then asked, “Did you track the registration number.”

“Yes…” Again, Driscoll checked her notebook. “It was reported stolen yesterday afternoon at 5pm by a Mr Aaron Truscott, 26 Cranbrook Lane, Rose Bay. He had been home all day sleeping off a hangover and when he went out to the street in the afternoon to use the car, it was gone.”

“Stealing a car in broad daylight…. They’re game.”

“Or just cock-sure of themselves.”

 “There’s that too,” Bianca agreed, “but surely one of the neighbours saw something or someone they thought was suspicious. I’ll get Foster and Chapman to do some doorknocking. What’s happening with the SUV now?”

“It was fingerprinted and photographed then towed to a spare allotment next to the police station.”

“Call them back and have them send all the information and photos to me and request that they take it to this address.” Bianca reached into her pocket and extricated one of Dr Christine William’s business cards which she handed to her senior constable. Driscoll took the card and immediately searched through the contacts on her phone for the number of the police station while Bianca continued on up the hill.

As she reached the truck and the small group of men standing by it, Bianca waited impatiently for a lull in the conversation so she could introduce herself and begin the task of retrieving the vehicle. In the few seconds she had to wait, she happened to look down the hill towards the wreck where she saw SC Anderson take a last, deep drag on his cigarette and then carelessly flick the still smouldering butt into a nearby patch of tinder-dry grass. Smoke instantly began to rise followed by small flames.

“Anderson! What are you doing?” Bianca suddenly called out in a voice loud enough to make everyone around her start and follow her stare.

Although Anderson immediately removed his suit jacket and made a weak attempt to beat the flames into submission with it, it was the quick thinking of the truck driver that had prevented a major blaze breaking out. As it registered as to what was happening, he had grabbed the two fire extinguishers from his vehicle, tossed one to the mate who was closest, then they both barrelled down the slope, reaching the fire in time to douse its flames in foam before it could get out of hand. With so much dry fuel around, had the fire escaped, it could have potentially destroyed thousands of hectares of vegetation not to mention any important evidence held within the wreckage of the stricken Commodore.

Bianca had been onsite since almost first light and hadn’t yet found time for her morning cup of coffee and was therefore in no mood for incompetency, especially from the most recent recruit to her team who had already tried her patience once that morning so as a sheepish-looking SC Anderson, accompanied by the truck driver and his companion, returned to the road, Bianca bit back the reprimand she dearly wanted to give him and, instead, after levelling an icy glare Anderson’s way, walked off in the direction of her car, leaving him to consider himself lucky he wasn’t on the receiving end a public dressing down which would have been entirely justified.

Rather than stewing over the senior constable’s reckless actions, Bianca pulled her phone from her pocket and called Constable Alex Foster to organise the questioning of neighbours along Cranbrook Lane, Rose Bay. She also phoned Chrissie in order to tell her that they had found the silver SUV and to expect its arrival at her facility in the next couple of hours. She also needed to make sure Chrissie knew not to go near it under any circumstances as any contact could compromise the evidence they might gain from it. She also arranged a time later that day to take Chrissie’s statement as it needed to be done as soon as possible. The longer it was left, the greater the chance of memories becoming blurred and facts changing.

Once Bianca had made her calls and was feeling much calmer, she returned to the truck and located its operator. Senior Constable Anderson had very wisely found something else to do quite a distance away from Bianca.

“Hi. I’m Sergeant Grieve,” she said by way of introduction as she reached out a hand, “I apologise for my officer’s carelessness and thank you for your quick actions.”

“No worries, Sergeant,” he replied with a toothy grin as he wiped a hand on his overalls before shaking Bianca’s. “I’m Dylan and the boys down there on the hill shifting rocks are Pete, Davo and Rob.”

“Right, Dylan, let’s get this job done.”

oooOooo

“Tony, have you got a minute?” Janet called out from behind her desk as she spied her boss walking past her office.

On hearing his name, Tony looked up from the file he was skimming through to see Janet motioning to him to come in. Out of habit, his face fell into a weary frown for his Senior Prosecutor was rarely the bearer of news that would make his life easier.

“What is it?” he grumbled as he entered her office and peered at her warily over the top of his reading glasses.

Janet restrained a small smile at his performance for although he went to great lengths to appear obdurate, she knew him to be a fair and reasonable person and, out of work hours, even a bit of a softie when it came to her and the twins. When Ash died, he was the one person she trusted enough to reach out to and the one person who was always there for her and her children. Her mother had been there for them, of course, but there were thoughts and emotions Janet knew she could never share with her being so very conscious of the woman’s predilection for judgement. No, it was Tony she felt safest confiding in.

“It’s this Bradshaw case…. I think we need to ask for an adjournment,” Janet said as she spread her fingers out over the manila folder that rested on the desk in front of her.

“An adjournment? Why do we need an adjournment? It all seemed pretty straightforward when James presented it to me.”

Janet opened the folder and turned around the photo that was on top of the other paperwork the file contained so it was facing Tony.

“That footprint,” she said as she tapped it with a pointed finger, “was found in a garden bed at the Bradshaw’s house and for reasons I won’t go into now, it could have only been made after 9:30pm on the night Lance Bradshaw was killed and before his wife arrived home the following morning.”

“That’s still a very wide window of time and just because someone steps in a garden bed, it doesn’t mean they were intending to murder Lance Bradshaw. It may have been someone planning to break-in but had an attack of conscience or a passing drunk who decided to relieve himself in the hydrangeas,” Tony argued valiantly. 

“True,” Janet agreed, “except this footprint matches a footprint found at the scene of another murder.”

“Another murder? Where?” he asked, knowing already he’d been out-played.

“It’s one the AFP… Bianca is working on. The murder of a known drug dealer, Michael Collins. He was bashed to death with a tyre lever in a disused warehouse on the outskirts of Bankstown about three weeks ago. The same footprint was found in the blood at the crime scene…. we’ve had it confirmed by forensics…it can only belong to the perp so we know that the person who was in the garden bed at the Bradshaw’s place was definitely capable of murder.”

“Was?”

Janet nodded at his observation. “There was an incident on the mountain road yesterday afternoon. A car was deliberately forced off the road and over the edge. It is quite likely that its driver had been flung out of the car as it rolled and may have been dead or close to death but the driver of the other vehicle made sure by shooting him in the head. We think the victim is the owner of the footprint.”

“Great,” Tony said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Criminals shooting criminals. We’ll never convince any of them to talk. We might as well be sitting under the Cone of Silence. Do we know who this mystery person is?”

“Not yet.”

Tony straightened up and ran a hand through his head of grey hair which he only half-jokingly attributed solely to Janet and her uncompromising determination to get to the truth no matter how deeply it was buried which also happened to be the feature he most admired about her despite the vexation it usually caused him.

“When does the case recommence?” Tony asked in his gravelly voice.

“Wednesday.”

“And there’s no chance this other case will be solved by then?”

“It’s highly unlikely without some sort of miracle.”

“Alright, get your adjournment and for Heaven’s sake do something about getting to the bottom of this mess… ASAP. The last thing we need is to be accused of sending the wrong people to jail,” he growled before marching off like the proverbial bear with a sore head, neither needing or wanting any more details.

Janet leaned back in her chair pondering all the information she had up to this point, her mind twisting and turning the facts like a Rubik’s cube as she tried to get every part to match and reveal its truth.  Frustrated by the difficulty of the task, she finally stood up and walked purposefully out into the maze of cubicles that made up the outer office in search of Briony, the assistant whose services she shared with one of the other prosecutors while she waited for Richard’s latest replacement to be appointed.

As augured, after the Royal Commission, Richard had resigned from the Department of Public Prosecutions and ventured out on his own leaving Janet with a void to fill, a task that proved as difficult as she had expected. His first replacement had been on a month-long trial. At the end of that month, Janet had threatened Tony that if the contract was renewed she would leave, citing the man’s lack of knowledge and initiative as an impediment to the smooth running of the cases she had to deal with and rendering him less than useless. The second replacement had lasted only a week before deserting, claiming that unreasonable demands were made on his time and skills. Janet, however, described him as lacking in any sort of commitment or work ethic.

It was true to say that whoever took the position would need a certain masochistic streak when it came to hard work and dedication to both the job and to Senior Prosecutor Janet King. Until such time that a suitable person was found, Janet had to be content to share which she didn’t mind as Briony was excellent at her job. Given half a chance, Janet would procure the woman’s services entirely for herself. Briony was eventually located over by one of photocopiers feeding sheets into its hungry mouth.

“Are you busy?” she asked but before the woman could reply Janet went on, “Can you find me as much information as possible on a Mr Sidney “Sid” Delaney, please? Anything on his businesses, his finances, connections with public figures, personal history….oh, and while you’re at it, see what you can dig up on his wife, Margaret, too.”

As well as being full of youthful enthusiasm, Briony was intelligent and her research skills were definitely on a par with the illustrious Richard Stirling. It also worked in Janet’s favour that the young woman harboured a quiet admiration for her and held her in very high esteem.

“I’ll get on it right away,” she promised Janet, willingly ditching the boring tasks that her boss had given her for that day. She’d deal with his wrath later.

With a ‘thank you’ and a smile of appreciation, Janet headed back to her office.

As she entered, she heard the ping of her phone that was lying on her desk telling her that there was a message awaiting her attention. Much to her pleasure, it was from Bianca who was wanting to know if they could catch up over lunch. Janet noted the time… nearly one o’clock… then quickly replied in the affirmative, suggesting they meet at the front of the building in half an hour.

oooOooo

It had taken over two hours for the pulverised body of the Commodore which resembled a pummelled boxer who, after ten punishing rounds had finally hit the canvas, to be hauled with painstaking care up the mountainside and eventually ‘stretchered’ away on the back of the flat-bed truck.

Leaving Senior Constable Driscoll to oversee the clearing of the site, Bianca followed the truck as it wound its way down the mountain road towards the city until they came to a set of major traffic lights. The truck veered left, destined for Forensics Investigations Co. where it would be left for the experts to crawl all over it like ants at a picnic while Bianca continued on straight ahead into the city and the headquarters of the AFP where she had arranged to meet Chrissie in order to record her official statement as to the events of the previous afternoon.

That exercise had also taken up two hours and given Bianca much to think about. _Why had their mystery man been talking to Mrs Delaney? Was the murder of Lance Bradshaw connected to Sid Delaney’s development plans? What was Michael Collins’ connection to the mystery man?_ _And, possibly not related but intriguing all the same, what was the relationship between Margaret Delaney and Denise Bradshaw? Was Chrissie’s hunch right?_ Bianca’s curiosity, however, was being superseded at the moment by both severe hunger pangs… she’d only eaten a banana since first thing that morning….. and ‘Janet’ withdrawals. In an effort to ease both, she had sent Janet a text message arranging to meet for lunch and now she was waiting for her to appear.

Detecting a presence, one of the glass doors in the bank of doors that lined the entrance to the DPP automatically glided open allowing Janet to slip through. As she stepped out onto the concrete apron in front of the building, she spotted Bianca standing at the top of the steps. Her trim figure was easily recognisable in that familiar outfit of navy trousers, black boots and a personal favourite of Janet’s, her light blue shirt which Janet thought complemented the blue of her eyes. Today her long, dark hair was tied back from her face in the usual ponytail. At the moment, her attention was focussed on her phone as one hand busily typed out a message while the other rested in her trouser pocket.

Feeling playful, Janet crept up on her and before Bianca realised she was there, she had managed to slip one arm around Bianca’s waist, tuck the other into the crook of her elbow and press a kiss to her cheek. Bianca immediately disregarded her phone and turned to present Janet with a wide smile and a warm “hello.”

“Hungry?” Janet asked.

“Famished.”

“How about the café across the road. The food’s good and the service isn’t too bad.”

“Sure,” Bianca replied, being so hungry now that she wasn’t fussed where they ate. She would have even stooped to eating one of the many pigeons that were strutting around where they stood if Janet had suggested it.

Taking Bianca by the hand, Janet led the way through the traffic which currently sat static at a red light. Reaching the opposite footpath, they walked a further twenty metres to the café Janet had in mind.

Apart from a small area inside the front window, the café was a long, narrow galley with square tables-for-two down one wall and half a dozen booths down the other. To give the illusion of more space, the entire length of the wall with the tables was mirror from halfway up. Light colours, including an abundant use of white, maintained the illusion. The tables were of a pale beech wood and were accompanied by white, metal chairs. The booths were also framed in beech wood with white leather-look padding. Simple, frosted-glass pendant lights hung from the high ceiling at regular intervals along the centre of the space. Clutter was kept to a minimum with some occasional green, leafy shrubbery in pots providing the only other decoration.

Despite it being the fashionably-late hour for lunch, Janet and Bianca had their choice of seats. They agreed on a booth towards the back of the place, away from the constant cacophony of street noise. No sooner had they sat down than a waiter was at their side, presenting them with menus and offering to take drink orders. Janet ordered a coffee. Bianca was happy to make do with the carafe of water the waiter had placed on the table.

A brief quiet fell over the table while they each mulled over the menu then, after some conferring, decisions were made and the menus were put to one side.

“I spoke to Tony this morning and he’s reluctantly agreed that I should ask for an adjournment in the Bradshaw case,” Janet said as she poured them each a glass of water from the carafe, “but I’m under orders to…and I quote, ‘get to the bottom of this mess ASAP’ unquote.”

“He’s not the only one who wants it sorted,” Bianca replied, feeling her own frustration with the case, “but anything we find only seems to make the picture murkier rather than clearer.”

“Have you been able to find out the identity of the driver of the car…your dead mystery man?”

Before Bianca could answer, the waiter had returned to their booth with his notebook in hand and was asking if they were ready to order. Bianca requested the warm duck salad and Janet asked for the whiting with salad and chips. The waiter then reclaimed the menus and left them to continue their conversation.

In answer to Janet’s question, Bianca picked up her phone and swiped and tapped her way through a number of screens then, finding what she wanted, passed the phone that now showed a photo of a driver’s licence to Janet.

“Francis John Wilkie. Forty-two years of age,” Bianca said as Janet peered at the screen. “There’s an address there but we checked it out and according to the woman who lives there now, she kicked ‘Franky’ out two years ago and hasn’t seen him since and has no idea where he might be living. She was able to tell us the name of a trucking company where he was working at the time but they told the same story. He used to drive long haul trucks for them but two years ago they had to fire him after he lost his licence for DUI….they don’t know what happened to him after that.”

“2015 wasn’t a great year for our Mr Wilkie, was it?” Janet observed.

“Although you’d have to say it was better than this year,” Bianca added darkly.

“True… Did you speak to Chrissie?”

Bianca nodded. “Yes, she met me at the office this morning and I took her statement. As a matter of fact, that’s where I’ve just come from.”

“What do you make of it all? It seems like more than a coincidence to me that Bradshaw is murdered and he was the one blocking the ‘go ahead’ for Delaney’s multi-million dollar scheme?  
“Perhaps,” Bianca answered, trying to keep an open-mind at this stage, “what I find strange is that just before Wilkie was run off the road and killed, Chrissie had seen him having a heated discussion with Delaney’s wife. I’m going to pay the Delaneys a visit this afternoon and see what explanation she comes up with, meanwhile, I’ve got Alex working on a warrant for any footage from the security cameras that surround Delaney’s place. Maybe we’ll be able to pick up something from those. Unfortunately, we can’t justify seizing computers and searching bank accounts at this stage although I’d love to get my hands on them.”

“And I’ve got a researcher going through Delaney’s business interests, finances, known associates and anything else she might find that is of significance. I’ve also asked her to check out Margaret Delaney.”

The arrival of their meals put their conversation on hold for the time being as both women spread their napkins on their laps and tucked in to their respective meals.

After the first few mouthfuls had put Bianca’s hunger pangs at bay, she said, “Hopefully, the forensics on the car will give us more clues as well. Strictly speaking, there’s a number of jobs ahead of ours but Chrissie has told me that she’s going to fast-track it for us and we should have a preliminary report by Thursday or Friday, although she’ll call me straight away if anything major turns up.”

“It seems it pays off to keep on good terms with ex-partners,” Janet said, giving Bianca a mischievous grin.

“Some of them, anyway,” Bianca replied, her tone non-committal, “there’s others I was glad to see the back of.”

Janet raised an inquiring eyebrow. “How many are we talking? Twenty? Thirty?”

Bianca laughed out loud. “No! Nowhere near that number! You could count them on one hand.” She stopped and appeared to reflect. “Well, you might need two hands…. And maybe a foot…. Perhaps both feet.”

Seeing Janet’s eyebrows raise once more, this time in surprise which was the exact reaction she’d been aiming for, Bianca laughed as she confessed, “I’m kidding…. You definitely only need one hand.”

Janet tried for a scowl but couldn’t help a laugh, however, her main feeling was relief although she wasn’t sure why.

“What about you?” Bianca asked as she swallowed another mouthful of her salad.

“Me?”

“Yes. Was Ash your only serious relationship?”

Janet bought some time by picking through her food and biting at a chip. She could feel her cheeks colour. It had been a very long time since she had thought about her life before Ash and the twins.

Noting Janet’s hesitation and not wanting to push, Bianca said, “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine. I just that it's been ages since I've thought about it. When I was at university there were a couple of women there that I had brief relationships with …. Six months at the most and there were other women I was attracted to but ultimately, I was too busy with my studies at the time to worry about that sort of thing. I wasn’t one for ‘flings’ really. Sometimes, I wish I had been. So yes, Ash was my first serious relationship.”

Having polished off their meals, the empty plates were pushed to the centre of the table to await collection.

“What about now,” Bianca asked, “do you wish you could do ‘flings’?”

Janet sat back in the booth and took a mouthful of her coffee as she studied Bianca’s face which now wore a more serious expression then, putting her coffee cup back on the table, she reached across and placed her hand over Bianca’s.

“No, I don’t,” she replied quietly, “and you are not a fling.”

Bianca grasped the hand that covered hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I suppose I should get back to work,” Janet said, deciding this wasn’t quite the place to become emotional and she had things she needed to do by the day’s end.

Bianca released her hand as they collected their things, slid out of the booth and headed to the front counter to pay.

Standing outside the doors of the Department of Public Prosecutions once more, Janet leaned in and asked hopefully, “Are you coming over tonight?”

“I suppose I have to,” Bianca teased, “I did promise Liam that I would look at his new train set.”

“Right,” Janet replied and then hearing Chrissie’s words in her head, she added, “you don’t have to, you know…. play with the train set…. Liam will understand.”

Bianca gave her a puzzled frown. “It’s fine….I don’t mind at all. I want to.”

Janet cupped Bianca’s face in her hand and placed a lingering kiss firstly on the woman’s cheek and then her lips worked their way to that sensitive spot below Bianca’s earlobe; the soft wetness of Janet’s lips and the warm touch of her breath sending a sensual stirring throughout Bianca’s body. 

“Why don’t you bring a change of clothes so that you can stay the night?” Janet whispered as she rested a hand on Bianca’s hip and drew her close.

“Sure,” Bianca managed to whisper in reply.

With that promise to look forward to, the two women reluctantly turned to go their separate ways, each of them acutely aware of the rapid beat of their hearts and the slippery commotion between their thighs.

oooOooo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Begrudgingly tucking away that final thought in a freshly-reinstated compartment of her mind marked “Love Life,” Bianca headed down the steps of the DPP building, back onto the general footpath and strode purposefully towards where her car was parked. As she walked, her focus turned more fully to the business at hand. She needed to have a ‘chat’ with Mr and Mrs Delaney to find out what they knew about the up-until-now mystery man, Francis John Wilkie.

Emerging from the elevator on the third level of the carpark, Bianca dipped her hand into her bag for her car keys. Finding them, she pressed the key fob. Her car, which was only a few metres away, gave a quick flash of its tail-lights to signal that it was now unlocked.

Bianca fastened her seatbelt but rather than bring the engine to life straight away, she, instead, shuffled through her bag once more, her fingers feeling around among the usual paraphernalia in its tardis-like interior for the familiar shape of her phone. Once she had located it, she scrolled through the ‘A’s in her contacts until she found the necessary number then dialled it. The call was brief.

“Anderson, where are you?”

“At the office, Sarge,” SC Anderson replied with a cheeriness that made it quite evident that he, at least, had recovered from the morning’s embarrassment of almost burning down an entire mountainside.

“Good. I’ll pick you up in the side street in twenty minutes. Be there.”

“Where are we going?”

“To talk to Sid Delaney and his wife.”

“Why do we need….”

Before he could finish his question, he realised he was talking to dead air.

Bianca’s second call was a little less officious.

“Alex, hi. Is the warrant for the security footage from Sid Delaney’s house sorted?”

With an assurance that all was in place with the warrant, Bianca had Constable Foster organise for the necessary personnel to meet her and Anderson at Delaney’s place in forty-five minutes.

“Alex, can you also look up Sid Delaney’s address for me, please?”

For a moment, the only sound at the other end of the phone was the rapid clicking of computer keys until Alex came back with the address.

“It’s 26-28 Cranbrook Rd, Rose Bay.”

A puzzled frown fixed itself on Bianca’s face.

“Are you sure? Isn’t that the same address as the one for the stolen SUV that ran our man, Francis Wilkie, off the road?”

Again, there was the clicking of keys.

“I’ve checked. The SUV was stolen from 26 Cranbrook _Lane…._ Delaney’s house is 26 Cranbrook _Road._ ”

Bianca listened to more tapping.

“It shows here on the map I’ve pulled up,” Alex continued, “that they run parallel to each other. Cranbrook Lane is one street over from Cranbrook Road.”

Bianca put her head in her hand and massaged her temples with her thumb and forefinger. No doubt, it was more than a coincidence.  Another piece of the puzzle that, as yet, gave no clue as to where it fitted. She knew from experience that eventually it would all come together. She just needed to be patient. As always, she would keep following the lines of inquiry as they presented until, at some point, her persistence would pay off and they would all merge, pointing her in the right direction but at the moment her level of frustration was high.

 “Right. Thanks, Alex. I’ll check it out on my way over to Delaney’s.”

Disconnecting and tossing the phone carelessly onto the passenger seat, Bianca pressed the ignition button, reversed out of the parking bay and nosed the car towards the exit, the tyres squealing on the painted surface as she rounded each corner at speed.

After a dream run of green lights through the city, Bianca arrived at the AFP’s Sydney headquarters exactly twenty minutes after she had called SC Anderson and, as instructed, he was waiting on the Nithsdale Street footpath. He was smoking and had his phone to his ear, listening intently. Noticing her approach, he quickly ended the call and took one long, last drag on his cigarette before dropping it on the ground, this time taking the precaution of stubbing it out under his shoe. Once she had pulled up beside him, he exhaled the last of the smoke then opened the passenger-side door and expertly crimped his tall frame into the seat.

“Why are we going to Delaney’s?” he asked as he struggled with his seatbelt.

“I have a few questions I need to ask him and his wife,” was Bianca’s non-committal reply as she indicated and turned left into Goulburn St, re-entering the Sydney traffic once more.

Bianca noticed Anderson fidget with the knot in his tie.

“About what? When did Sid Delaney come onto our radar?" he asked as he tidied his hair using the mirror behind the sun visor."Sure, he owns the warehouse where Collins was killed but up until the murder, Delaney had probably forgotten he even owned it. His property portfolio is considerable. What could he possibly know about what went on there? Am I missing something?”

Her Senior Constable was very lucky he couldn’t read her mind at that moment.

“Did you read the files on the Bradshaw case that I left for you?” she asked although she had already guessed the answer.

 “Most of them,” he replied, “I skimmed through some of the less interesting parts.”

Again, Bianca found herself questioning how this man had made it to the position of Senior Constable. His work and attitude were lacklustre at best.

“On the night of his death, Lance Bradshaw was attending a dinner on Sid Delaney’s invitation. It’s Delaney’s driver and her boyfriend who are currently accused of his murder. It has also come to light that Delaney needed Bradshaw either onside or not voting at all to get his proposed multi-million-dollar development application pushed through council. It seems a little too convenient don’t you think, that Lance Bradshaw was put out of action permanently at that particular time?”

“Killing someone is a bit extreme just for one vote. Would one vote even make that much difference?”

“Bradshaw had a significant number of supporters among the councillors and the residents. As well as being rid of him, it sends one hell of a message to the others.”

Anderson pondered that aspect for a minute or two while Bianca continued.

 “Then Mr Francis Wilkie, our dead mystery man and, I think we can safely say, the murderer of Michael Collins although motive has not yet been established….no doubt it has something to do with a drug deal gone wrong…..can be placed at the scene of the Lance Bradshaw murder at around the time the councillor was killed.”

“But didn’t you say they were already prosecuting someone for that one? Isn’t that hotshot dyke barrister, Janet King, handling the prosecution?” Anderson interrupted.

Although she had visions of herself pulling over to the curb and lecturing her senior constable long and hard on the insensitivity and sheer wrongness of his chosen words….a vision that may or may not have involved some level of physical violence….Bianca grudgingly chose to ignore his derogatory comment, deciding it would be like talking to a very thick brick wall, however, her grip on the steering wheel did tighten considerably. Instead, she said, “The Prosecution’s case is beginning to look a little shaky…. Once the Defence finds out about the footprint….. “

“Footprint?”

“Yes. It’s been confirmed that it was Wilkie’s footprint found in the front garden bed of the Bradshaw house. It could only have been left there on the night Bradshaw was killed. Anyway, I have it on good authority that the Prosecution is going to ask for an adjournment so that this new evidence can be fully investigated.”

“King’s going to hate that,” Anderson laughed, “the bitch hates being wrong.”

“Don’t we all,” Bianca muttered. She was thinking back to a few months ago when Senior Constable Anderson first joined her team. Her Superintendent had drawn her aside and specifically requested that she take him under her wing as he was still a bit ‘wet behind the ears’ to use the man’s exact words.  Bianca had assured her ‘Super’ that she was quite capable of getting him up to standard, however, right now she wasn’t quite so confident that she could or even wanted to.

Deciding that any further discussion of the case with SC Anderson at this point was only going to irritate her and perhaps lead her to commit a murder of her own, Bianca redirected the conversation.

“Can you put Delaney’s address into the GPS? I know the general area but when we get closer…. It’s 26 Cranbrook Road, Rose Hill.” she asked.

“It’s okay. I know where it is,” Anderson replied then, suddenly feeling the need to provide an explanation, added, “I’ve got a mate who lives in the area…. Not in that street but nearby.”

Other than the occasional navigational instruction from Anderson, they drove on in a slightly awkward silence which was eventually broken by the ringing of Bianca’s phone that played through the car via the Bluetooth connection. Seeing the name ‘Christine Williams’ come up on the screen, Bianca pressed the button on her steering wheel to answer it.

“Hi, Chrissie. What can I do for you?” Bianca asked and added as a precaution, “Just so you know, I’m in the car and you’re on speakerphone. Senior Constable Anderson is with me.”

“Hi Bianca…..Hi, Josh.”

Bianca smiled at the flirtatious tone Chrissie’s voice adopted while Anderson simultaneously perked up at the mention of his name by the gorgeous Dr Williams and the fact that she had remembered him. Bianca imagined the cheeky wink that Chrissie would have given her. It was a game she had seen her play and win many times before.

“Hello, Doc,” Anderson replied, aiming for smooth but striking well short of the mark.

“You were calling to tell me something?” Bianca said, stopping the game before it started in earnest.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. Remember you asked me to let you know if anything significant was found in the wreck of Wilkie’s car….”

“Yes…” Bianca said hopefully.

“A large amount of cash….almost twenty-five grand was found in a bag hidden in the tyre well in the boot of the car.”

“Where would Wilkie get twenty-five thousand dollars?” Bianca muttered to herself.

“But here’s the best bit,” Chrissie went on, “a mobile phone was found. It was caught under the front passenger-side seat…”

Bianca did a mental fist pump then looked over at Anderson to share her excitement only to find that the man who was a moment ago preening his ego was now sitting almost rigid with the colour suddenly drained from his face.

“Are you okay, Anderson?” Bianca asked.

Realising that his boss was addressing him and not Dr Williams, he replied, “I’m fine…. I’m feeling a bit car sick, that’s all.”

“Do you need me to pull over?”

Anderson shook his head. “If I open the window, I’ll be fine.”

Bianca didn’t think her driving had been erratic enough to cause car sickness but she didn’t dwell on the matter.

“Are you still there?” Chrissie asked.

“Yeah…Sorry….Anderson isn’t feeling well….Where’s the phone now, Chrissie?”

“My techies are going over it at the moment to see what they can retrieve. I’ll let you know what they find as soon as possible. You can probably have the phone and the information tomorrow morning.”

“That would be great. Thanks.”

“By the way, Rose and I are meeting up at Odie’s on The Rocks for drinks at seven this evening if you’d like to join us….You can bring a certain ‘friend’ if you want.”

Bianca smiled to herself at the thought of her own rendezvous that evening. “I’d love to, Chris, but my ‘friend’ and I have already made plans for tonight. Thanks anyway.”

“Okay…Another time perhaps?”

“Love to. Bye.”

With those last words, the call ended. Bianca looked across at SC Anderson once more. Some of the colour had returned to his face but he seemed detached, lost in thought. His dark eyes were focussed off into the distance and his forehead was creased in a deep frown.

As they entered one end of Cranbrook Road, Bianca noted the time and then, much to her passenger’s confusion, made a right-hand turn at the next corner.

“We were in Cranbrook Rd,” Anderson said, a level of agitation beginning to show. “Where are we going now?”

“It’s okay. We’ve got a few minutes up our sleeve,” Bianca explained as they cruised slowly along the street. “The SUV was stolen from this street….number 26….I wanted to take a look.”

“What are you hoping to find?”

His usual light manner was replaced with a sudden sullenness that was even less appealing.

“I’m not sure….just checking out the lay of the land.” She brought the car to a stop outside number 26 and peered at the house and its surrounds, paying careful attention to the details.

Like most of the other houses in this and the surrounding streets, it was mansion-like in proportion although not the largest by far. Also, like the others, it would, no doubt, be absurdly expensive. It was immaculate in its presentation with lawns and hedges manicured to within an inch of their lives and bordered with gardens of well-trained shrubbery that dared not overstep their concrete confines. A pebbled-concrete driveway cut a swathe through the sea of uniformly-green grass and led up the slight incline to the house where it then divided, one section leading off to a double garage while the other section stopped outside a the rather prominent front door. A tall hedge screened the road from the owners’ view.

If the SUV was parked in the driveway, it would have been a relatively-easy target, Bianca thought to herself although, in broad daylight, the thief would still need some nerve. Even from the street, it was easy to spot the security camera strategically attached under the eaves on the corner of the house, its roving eye vigilantly monitoring the area.

“Surely the cops investigating the theft have checked out the CCTV footage,” Bianca muttered mostly to herself.

“What?” Anderson asked abruptly as the sound of Bianca’s voice drew him away from preoccupation with his own thoughts.

“Nothing….thinking aloud….When we’re finished here, I want you to make some calls and track down the security camera footage from the time the SUV was stolen. Get a warrant if necessary,” Bianca instructed as she pointed towards the camera. “I can’t believe it hasn’t already been checked but It won’t hurt to go over it again.”

“Right,” was Anderson’s only reply, his enthusiasm completely underwhelming.

Satisfied that she had seen all there was to see here, Bianca put the car into gear and moved on, turning back into Cranbrook Rd at the next corner. This time, as she looked up the road, she could see two vehicles that weren’t there before, parked at the curb outside where she assumed number 26 would be. Constable Alex Foster was leaning against the driver’s side door of one of these vehicles with the necessary paperwork in her hand. As she spied Sergeant Grieve’s car approaching, the young constable quickly straightened herself up and was immediately alert.

Having parked, Bianca strode the short distance up the footpath towards Constable Foster, an unusually subdued Senior Constable Anderson slunk several paces behind.

“Is that for me?” Bianca said with just a hint of a smile as she stopped in front of Constable Foster.

Alex nodded and handed her the warrant.

“Who else is here?”

“There’s the two technicians, Aldridge and Hazlehurst,” Alex replied as she signalled to an older man and a thirty-something woman, each in navy coveralls and carrying a small toolbox, to come over and join them.

“And they’re up to speed on what can and can’t be taken?” Bianca checked.

Again, Alex nodded. “I’ve fully briefed them. There’s also Constable Chapman here with me to help out if there’s any trouble.”

On hearing his name, the fresh-faced constable who was standing only a metre or two away, signed off to the conversation he was having on his CB radio and joined the group as well. To finish the formalities, Bianca introduced herself and SC Anderson to the technicians who weren’t a usual part of her team.

With everyone involved now assembled and aware of the procedure to be followed and the role they had to play, Bianca prepared to lead the small troop.

Set into the side of the hill that overlooked an inlet of Sydney Harbour known as Rose Bay, it wasn’t until the group had made its way down the steep steps leading from the road above, that the enormity of the multi-levelled building was exposed and the great feat of engineering it would have required due to its location became fully-apparent.

_Maybe size did matter, after all, Bianca thought to herself, in which case she wasn’t even in the race._

The architecture was utilitarian by necessity, box set upon box set upon box, each one positioned forward slightly further as they progressed down the hillside. To add interest to this part of the house that Bianca and her team were now overlooking, three tall, narrow inserts of glass were set into the wall in a graduated fashion and the roof had been given a skillion line. The building’s smooth-textured plaster exterior was painted in a mushroom colour with white as the only contrast.  With the structure set towards the centre of a double block of land, Bianca could see what looked like gardens leading off down one side of the house….the garden area where Mrs Delaney had argued with Wilkie possibly…. and a wide path edged on either side by strips of lawn trundled down the other.

At the bottom of the steps, the group single-filed over a narrow ‘bridge’ in order to cross a magnificent water feature which was integrated seamlessly into the rock face. On the other side was a large landing of square, white marble tiles gracing the entrance to these top two floors of the building. Partially extending out over the landing was the patio that jutted out from the level above.

Bianca had observed the location of two security cameras at the front of the property and knew that Delaney would already be alerted to their arrival. She knocked on the door. They didn’t have to wait long for it to be opened by the man himself and to Bianca’s way of thinking, he didn’t seem entirely surprised to see them. Perhaps it was a regular occurrence.

Sid Delaney was taller than suggested by the one or two photos Bianca had seen and despite his sixty-one years, he had managed to maintain an athletic appearance. The sergeant was sure they would find a well-used home gym somewhere in the house. Even now, he would probably be considered handsome with his head of thick, wavy hair which was predominantly silver but threaded through with the remnants of its original dark colouring. It was well-preened as was his stubbly beard. His olive skin was furrowed lightly across his forehead and his piercing green eyes were creased with fine lines at the edges. A nose that looked to have been broken at some stage in his life and a broad mouth gave him a slightly nuggetty edge. He was dressed casually in khaki cargo shorts and a striped Lacoste polo shirt. His feet were bare and in his hand, there was a freshly-opened bottle of beer.

 “Mr Sidney Delaney?” Bianca asked.

“Yes. Who's asking?”

Bianca and Anderson presented their badges for his perusal but he gave them only a cursory glance.

“I’m Sergeant Grieve and this is Senior Constable Anderson from the Australian Federal Police. We’re here in conjunction with a case we are currently investigating.  We have a warrant to seize any recordings stored by your security cameras,” Bianca explained as she handed him the paperwork. “If you could show our technicians your system and then we’d like to ask you some questions, if we could.”

Delaney took the warrant and quickly ran an eye over its contents then, nonplussed by their presence, he very cordially invited them in.

“If you want to wait here for me, Sgt Grieve,” he said as he ushered them into the foyer where the white, marble floor continued and a large, elaborately-framed mirror looked at them from the wall, “I’ll show your IT guy…and girl…to the engine room. I won’t be too long.”  

Delaney led the entourage down a hallway with the self-assurance of someone who knows that they have nothing to fear from a police search.  Anderson made to follow but Bianca grabbed him by the sleeve of his jacket.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I thought I’d take a look.”

“No. You need to stay with me while I ask our friend, Mr Delaney, some questions.”

Anderson’s face took on a dour expression but he remained where he was.

As promised, it had only taken a few short minutes before Delaney returned. He suggested that the two Federal agents follow him into another part of the house where they could be more at ease.

They passed through a large living room minimally decorated with a long, white leather sofa, a glass and chrome coffee table and an enormous television screen. To add to the cavernous effect, the walls and high ceiling were all painted white. The eye was instantly drawn to the room’s only splash of colour which emanated from a wildly vivid abstract painting mounted on one of the walls. Bianca was sure it was likely worth tens, if not hundreds of thousands of dollars but it wasn’t to her taste. As they walked across the room, its floor surfaced with a low-pile white carpet, she desperately hoped there was nothing nasty on the bottom of her shoes that would leave behind dirty tracks. Surely this room had to be a housekeeper’s worst nightmare.

The next space was an industrial-scale kitchen. Bianca had to wonder why it was required when her bit of research had shown that even though they had three children only the two of them, Mr and Mrs Delaney, lived here on a permanent basis. Again, white walls featured as well as ample amounts of stainless steel. Every surface was sleek, shiny and clean. It gave off a coldness that made Bianca shiver.

Off from this and a neighbouring dining area was their destination, a covered patio, which they reached through a sliding glass door.  The view of the bay that immediately greeted the eye was breathtaking.

“Can I offer either of you a drink of some sort….coffee….tea?” Delaney asked as he motioned to them to take a seat at the outdoor table setting. More white and glass.

“No, thank you,” Bianca replied while simultaneously Anderson said, “Yes, thanks.”

Bianca shot him a glare that told him they were here on business not paying a social visit and, for once, he seemed to take the hint.”

“On second thoughts,” Anderson said, “hopefully, we won’t be here long enough for coffee so I think I’ll pass if that’s okay.”

Deciding it was time to get down to business, Bianca took her notebook and pen from her bag and rested them on her lap then asked, “Is your wife here, Mr Delaney? We have a couple of questions we’d like to ask her as well.”

Delaney stretched back in his seat, his legs extended out in front of him and crossed at the ankles and his fingers laced around his beer bottle seeming, for all intents and purposes, unperturbed by their presence.

“I’m sorry, Sgt Grieve, Margaret isn’t here. She’s gone up to the Blue Mountains for a few days with her friend, Denise. Denise’s father recently passed away and the funeral is today. She was very upset. Margaret’s gone to give her some support.”

“Would that be Denise Bradshaw, Lance Bradshaw’s wife?” Bianca asked.

Delaney nodded. “The poor woman has lost her husband and her father within a few months of each other.”

“When are you expecting her back?”

“Probably Thursday but that might change depending on how Denise is coping?”

Changing tack, Bianca then asked, “Do you know a Mr Francis Wilkie?”

Delaney scratched the grey stubble on his chin as he pondered the name.

“No, I don’t believe I do,” he finally replied but, after a quick glance at SC Anderson, he changed his mind. “Oh, you mean ‘Franky’…. Not too many people dare to call him ‘Francis’ at least not to his face.”

“Are you aware that he was killed in a car accident after leaving your house yesterday afternoon?”

Delaney took a moment to let the news sink in.

“No, I wasn’t …. How did it happen?” he asked, his manner now more subdued.

 “I can’t go into details at this point, Mr Delaney, as we’re still investigating the matter. In what capacity did you know him?”

“He used to drive trucks for my haulage company but they had to fire him when he lost his licence for DUI… company policy. Once he was out of a job his girlfriend kicked him out of her house…”

“I think you’ll find she kicked him out because he was violent towards her,” Bianca corrected.

“Whatever the reason…. He was down on his luck and I felt sorry for the poor bastard so I kept him on the payroll doing odd jobs for me.”

“What sort of jobs?”

Bianca was aware of SC Anderson shifting uneasily in his seat. His eyes were down, completely focussed on his notepad.

“Anything I could find to keep him gainfully employed….personal errands, driving, a bit of debt collecting….that sort of thing.”

“Your wife is friends with Denise Bradshaw but _your_ relationship with Lance Bradshaw wasn’t quite so amicable was it,” Bianca asked as she changed the direction of her questioning once more.

“No, not of late,” he answered with a wry smile.

“The night of your dinner party to which Mr Bradshaw was invited…. Was there a particular reason you invited him? Given the state of your relationship, it seems unusual.”

Delaney reached forward and took his beer bottle from the table, at the same time, giving a dry laugh as he suspected he knew where the question was heading.

“Lance and I had had a bit of a falling out over some plans for a development in his area. I had invited him to the dinner in the hope of perhaps mending a few fences, that’s all.”

“You weren’t hoping to change his mind? And his vote?”

“I guess that might have been an added bonus but no, it wasn’t my motivation.”

Bianca went on to question him about the woman he had employed as a driver and the events leading up to her driving Bradshaw home. When asked, Delaney had said that at first, he was surprised to find she had been charged, along with her boyfriend, of killing someone but as more of her personal circumstances became public, he figured it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.

“You had a bit of a party here on Sunday afternoon, I believe,” Bianca asked.

 “Yes, my development plans were finally approved by Council so I had a few friends over for a celebration….popped a few corks on some bottles of champagne…. nothing illegal, Sergeant,” he replied with a touch of sarcasm.

“Are you aware that Mr Wilkie was also here at that time?”

“No, I wasn’t,” Delaney replied, a level of surprise evident in his face. His eyes flicked to SC Anderson but quickly averted back to Bianca. “He wasn’t invited…Not his type of thing but it wouldn’t be unlike Franky to turn up unannounced. Once he’d realised we were having a party, he probably would have left without bothering me.”

“Actually, Mr Delaney, we have reason to believe he spoke to your wife.”

“Margaret? He barely knows her. Why would he have a need to speak to her?” 

“That’s what we were hoping she could tell us.”

Bianca had been about to ask a further question when she felt the vibration of her phone in her jacket pocket. She took it out and checked the caller ID. It was Janet. Being a personal call, her first instinct was hit ‘decline’ and let it go through to voice mail but using the excuse to herself that Janet had been doing some work on Delaney as well and might have some important information for her, she excused herself and answered, wandering over to the glass panels and chrome railings enclosing the patio and out of earshot, as she did so. From here she could see that the slope the Delaney place was sitting on had been terraced so as to create three tiers of level ground and extended right back to the street behind.

“Hi, Janet,” Bianca said as she continued to scope the surrounding landscape, walking to the far end of the patio and peering down at the spacious garden area at the side of the building with its proliferation of palms and ferns. Away from the protection of the walls, a breeze played with a few strands of her dark hair that had managed to escape her ponytail during the day. She secured them behind her ear.

“Hi. You busy?”

“A little.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. What’s up?”

“I’ve had my…a researcher, Briony, looking into our Mr Delaney and what she’s come up with so far makes for some interesting reading….”

“I’m listening.”

“He has his fingers in several noteworthy pies….a trucking company, a storage unit business, several industrial properties, as well as half a dozen luxury units in various locations around Sydney and northern NSW that he rents out, a property investment and development company called Future Planners and a construction company…. All up, he’s worth close to $350 million…”

“Three hundred and fifty-million?” Bianca let out a silent whistle, impressed at the idea that one person could have that amount of money but her sceptical, police brain couldn’t help wondering how much of it was from ill-gotten gains.  She had done a bit of her own research on the man and knew he owned a significant amount of property but she hadn’t been aware of the full extent of his wealth. She was, however, content to listen to Janet fill her in on it.

“But most interestingly…”

Janet hesitated. Bianca could hear the flicking of pages.

“Yes, go on.”

“Back in February 1982, he changed his name. Today he’s Mr Sidney Delaney…..prior to 1982, he was Mr Sidney Dellaqua…..and he has a brother, Charles ‘Charlie’ Dellaqua who…”

“Who was the importer behind that last shipment of drugs we seized….. the same ones that were found on Michael Collins.”

The line went quiet as Bianca processed this new bit of information.

“Are there any other family skeletons I should know about?” Bianca finally asked.

“No, there’s just the brother, Charlie. His parents died years ago…. No other siblings.”

“I don’t know exactly how it ties in but I’m sure with a bit of digging we’ll find the connection. Thanks for that. Tell young Briony she’s a genius.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Janet laughed, “but she is very good and I’ll pass on your appreciation.”

Still mulling over this new piece of the puzzle, Bianca turned to face the table where the two men sat across from each other. They both were now leaning forward on the table engrossed in conversation. Delaney appeared relaxed as he drank his beer, however, Anderson who glanced over at Bianca several times, was tapping his pen nervously against the palm of his right hand.

“Are we still on for tonight?” Janet asked. Her voice had lost its professional edge and had instead taken on a lighter, almost playful note.

Bianca turned back to face the bay. “Most definitely,” she answered in a voice just above a whisper.

“Great. Dinner is usually around 6:30pm on week nights but we can hold off a little longer if you think you can make it. If not, I’ll save some for you if you like.”

“Unless something unforeseen happens….” …..It was a forewarning Bianca was in the habit of using given her line of work….”I’ll be there by 6:30 pm …maybe even a little earlier.”

“Excellent. I look forward to it.”

“Me too…..See you soon….Bye.”

As Bianca placed the phone back in her pocket and got her smile in check, she turned to make her way back to the two men, her mind still pondering the information Janet had given her. Initially, she had planned to ask Delaney about his relationship with his brother, Charlie Dellaqua, and any business dealings they might have had but acting on gut instinct alone, she decided to keep this new-found knowledge to herself, sensing that it may give her an upper hand at some stage.

It was just as Bianca reached the table that Constable Alex Foster appeared at the doorway.

“We’re all finished in here, Sergeant Grieve.”

“And I think Anderson and I are finished too,” Bianca added as she picked up her notebook and pen and dropped them in her bag which she then slung over her shoulder. “Thank you for your co-operation, Mr Delaney.”

Delaney and Anderson both pushed back their chairs, stood and shook hands across the table.

“No worries, Sergeant, although I can’t see how any of it could have been very useful to your investigation, unfortunately.”

“You never know what’s going to be useful until the questions are asked,” Anderson said as he followed Bianca and Delaney back into the house. His sullen mood seemed to be lifting.

“Speaking of asking, I was wondering if I could ask a favour of you, Sergeant Grieve.”

“You can definitely try,” Bianca replied, “but I’m afraid I can’t promise you anything.”

Delaney stopped walking for the moment and turned to Bianca, his expression quite solemn.

“Frank Wilkie doesn’t have any family and not much in the way of friends. I’d like to pay for his funeral if I can. Would that be possible?”

Bianca was struck by his sincerity. “I’m sure that could be arranged once the body is released,” she replied, “I’ll put SC Anderson in-charge of following that up.”

Once they were at the front entrance where the remainder of her team was gathered and waiting, Bianca reached into her jacket pocket and produced one of her business cards.

“If I can ask a favour of you too, Mr Delaney,” Bianca said as she handed the man her card. “Could you have your wife call me on this number as soon as possible?  It would be greatly appreciated.”

“Of course,” he said as he took it from her, glanced at it and  put it in his pocket.

They’d barely reached the bottom of the steps when Bianca heard the door close behind them.

oooOooo

 

Bianca managed to nudge her car into a parking space only a few doors up from Janet’s place. It was a tight fit but she was up to the task. Before cutting the engine, she’d checked the clock on the dashboard. Despite the stop off at the grocery store on the way over as she didn’t like to turn up empty-handed, she’d made good time.  It was only a quarter past six.

After dropping Anderson back at Goulburn St, Bianca had decided that there was little else she could achieve in what was left of the working day…. She had officers scrutinising the security footage from Delaney’s, Anderson was chasing up the same from the scene of the stolen SUV and Chrissie had her IT people going over the money and the phone found in Wilkie’s car…. All bases were covered. She felt she could depart with a clear conscience.

Once she arrived home, she showered and changed into her favourite pair of jeans, a T-shirt and put a pair of well-worn Merrells on her feet then, as Janet had suggested, she carefully folded into an overnight bag, a pair of black trousers with a matching jacket, a white shirt and a fresh change of underwear. She popped her boots and accompanying socks into a separate plastic bag before placing them inside too.

While Bianca tapped the door-knocker and waited for it to be opened, she felt that familiar stir she had each time she knew she would soon be in Janet’s company. It was a pleasurable combination of excitement and nerves and made her feel embarrassingly like a teenager on a first date.

Janet answered the door and gave her a broad smile, a smile that became even wider as she invited Bianca in and saw that she carried an overnight bag.

“You’re early,” Janet said as she leaned in and placed a brief but tantalising kiss on Bianca’s lips.

“I’m sorry…..Is that alright?” Bianca was now worried that in her eagerness to see Janet she may have created an inconvenience.

“It’s perfect,” Janet replied with a laugh.

As if to make up for her sin of arriving early, Bianca said rather meekly, “I’ve brought dessert,” and held out the shopping bag she was carrying.

Janet took it from her and looked inside. “Ice-cream,” she said as she removed a large tub of vanilla ice-cream from the bag. “The kids will love you.”

“It’s not just any old ice-cream,” Bianca explained, “it’s very expensive and very delicious ice-cream.”

“And…” Janet dipped into the bag again to find out what the second object inside was. “Chocolate topping.”

She looked at Bianca with a raised eyebrow, a glint in those blue eyes and a tiny smirk.

“It’s for the ice-cream,” Bianca said innocently but with a small smirk of her own.

“Of course.”

Before they could get any deeper into that particular conversation, there came the sound of small, bare feet racing down the hall.

“Bibi!”

“Bianca!”

‘Hi guys,” Bianca said as Liam took her free hand and Emma held onto the other arm.

“Come and see my train set, Bibi,” Liam begged as he attempted to tug her towards their playroom.

“And my Lego rocket,” Emma added, not to be outdone by her brother.

“Here, let me take that,” Janet suggested as she reached for Bianca’s overnight bag, “I’ll put it upstairs for you while you go play.”

With a twin holding each hand, Bianca was lead off to see their marvels.

“We’re having tacos for dinner, if that’s okay,” Janet said as she followed behind.

“Great.”

Back in the kitchen, Janet finished chopping the tomatoes and lettuce and added a squeeze of lemon juice to her freshly-made guacamole dip. She then put out the dinner plates, cutlery and napkins and poured a glass of white wine for herself and Bianca. Just before going to fetch Bianca and the twins, she placed a tray of taco shells in the oven and set the timer.

Rather than enter the room and disturb the activity, Janet remained in the doorway, leaning against the jamb and sipping her wine as she watched on contentedly.  Bianca was sitting crossed-legged on the floor with Liam close to one side operating his train and busily explaining how it all worked. Emma sat on the other side. Bianca was helping her to construct a bridge over the train track with her building set.

The ding of the timer reminded Janet that dinner was ready although she was reluctant to bring the activity to a halt.

“Okay, kids, time to wash your hands and get ready for dinner,” Janet said eventually.

With their own reluctance, the children put down their toys and made for the bathroom. Janet entered the room and extended a hand to Bianca to help her up off the floor. As Bianca rose to her feet, she allowed herself to fall into Janet’s arms where their lips met until Janet remembered with a start that she had taco shells in the oven. She quickly released Bianca and raced for the kitchen, rescuing the basis of their dinner just in time.

The meal was demolished amid a steady flow of chatter, laughter and mess until eventually, when all the shells and taco filling were gone and stomachs were full, Janet sent the twins off to clean themselves up with the promise of half an hour TV time before they had to go to bed.

As Janet stood at the kitchen sink rinsing the greasy dishes that had been delivered from the table and stacking them in the dishwasher, she suddenly felt the gentle press of Bianca’s body behind her and the slide of her hands as they encircled her waist, coming to rest just above her hips. Soft lips began to press tenderly against the curve of her neck and teeth nipped lightly at an earlobe, the flurry of Bianca’s warm breath fanning a flame which had been brought to life much earlier that afternoon. Janet stopped her rinsing and tilted her head back onto Bianca’s shoulder. She heard herself sigh as, with a wet hand, she caressed Bianca’s cheek.

Realising what she’d done, Janet turned and, reaching for a nearby tea towel, made to wipe the damp streaks she’d left on Bianca’s face.

“Sorry,” she said with a soft laugh as she did so.

However, Bianca chose to ignore the wetness as she dipped her hands into Janet’s hair and drew their mouths together into the kiss she’d been longing to give her all night.

“We forgot to have the ice-cream …..and chocolate sauce,” Janet said in a low, still-breathless voice as their lips finally parted.

“Maybe we can have it later,” Bianca whispered as she reached for Janet’s mouth once more.

It was the cry for a story from the top of the stairs that finally drew them apart.

“Why don’t you take your glass of wine into the living room and make yourself comfortable while I put the two terrors to bed,” Janet suggested, “I won’t be long.”

Bianca accompanied Janet to the bottom of the stairs where she said her goodnights to Liam and Emma before Janet took them up to bed with the instruction that there was only going to be one story tonight so they had better choose wisely.

While Janet read to the twins, Bianca took up the suggestion and carried her wine into the living room where she kicked off her sandals, removed her phone from her pocket and put it on the low table then made herself comfortable, tucking her legs up on the sofa and resting against one or two strategically-positioned cushions. On the coffee table, sitting atop a copy of yesterday’s Sydney Morning Herald, were a couple of travel brochures for Fiji which Bianca picked up and flicked through casually while she waited.

oooOooo

Having read to the end of another chapter of Harry Potter, Janet had tucked the twins into their beds, kissed them goodnight and made her way back downstairs, retrieving her glass of wine from the kitchen bench before joining Bianca in the living room.

 “How did it go with Sid Delaney?” Janet asked as she put her glass on the coffee table and took up a position close to Bianca’s side.

Bianca had gone to remove her legs from the sofa and sit up but Janet had caught them and placed them across her lap.

“I’m not sure…” Bianca answered as she enjoyed the teasing touch of Janet’s fingers gently massaging her ankles. “He certainly acted like a man who had nothing to hide and he was happy to co-operate and answer questions….which could possibly mean he’s as guilty as sin of something.”

“What about his wife? What did she say about her argument with Wilkie?”

“She wasn’t there. Apparently, Denise Bradshaw’s father died and Mrs Delaney was away at the funeral.”

While Janet pondered that bit of information, she reached over for her glass of wine. As she sipped its contents, her free hand rested across Bianca’s thighs.

“Chrissie rang while we were driving over to Delaney’s…. The forensics guys found a large sum of money and a phone while going through the …..”

Bianca took a sharp breath. Janet had slipped her hand between Bianca’s thighs and was lightly stoking the inside, slowly running her fingers the length of her upper leg.

 “Was it Wilkie’s phone?” Janet asked, seemingly unaware of the internal ruckus she was causing.

“We won’t know until forensics are finished with it,” Bianca managed to say with a great deal of concentration. “How’s Tony? Is he over the disappointment of having to adjourn the Bradshaw case?”

“I don’t think so. He’s given me two more difficult cases to replace it. My penance for daring to suggest he might have been wrong….. Anyway, that’s a job for tomorrow,” Janet said as she placed her glass back on the table then leaned over to kiss the tip of Bianca’s chin. “Work’s over now.”

With those words, Janet moved her hand from between Bianca’s thighs and manoeuvred so that she was hovering just above the full length of Bianca’s body, her blue eyes capturing Bianca’s gaze and her lips turned up in a devilish grin before lowering them to Bianca’s in a kiss full of the heat and desire that had been building since they’d parted in the afternoon. Bianca wrapped her arms around Janet’s body, drawing her weight down onto her, pressing her close and feeling the nudge of her hips against her own.

“Should I go and get the chocolate sauce?” Janet teased as they surfaced for air.

“Only if you don’t mind chocolate sauce all over your sofa,” Bianca replied as she dipped her hand into the swathe of blonde hair and gently coaxed her to join her in another kiss.

It was the sudden and loud ringing of Bianca’s phone that drew them unwillingly apart.

Bianca looked at it sitting on the coffee table, its screen now bright with light. For an instant she considered not answering it although she knew it would be a dereliction of her duty as a police officer.

Janet pressed herself up onto her hands and passed Bianca the phone. Looking at the caller ID, Bianca could see it was a call from Chrissie. She reluctantly swiped the screen to answer.

oooOooo

The Goddess of Parking had not seen fit to shine on Chrissie this particular evening. The car park she usually used when going down to The Rocks area of the harbour was full so she had been forced to do several rounds of the nearby blocks in order to find a vacant parking space. Eventually, out of frustration, she pulled her hire car into a bay marked ‘Loading Zone’ that was in an unkempt alleyway, figuring there was little chance of anyone wanting to load goods at this time of day and, besides that, she would rather pay a fine than keep Rose waiting any longer.

Chrissie pressed her way through the usual crowd that bustled along this section of the waterfront, until she came to the small, outdoor area of Odie’s Restaurant where she had arranged to meet Rose. It only took a glance to see that Rose hadn’t arrived yet. Chrissie looked at her watch. She was only ten minutes late. Surely Rose hadn't given up on her so soon and left.

A waiter greeted her and asked if she would like a table. Chrissie gave the waiter a description of Rose and asked if he had seen at all. When he said that he hadn’t she said in that case she would like a table for two somewhere in the outside area. He seated her at a spot next to a potted hedge and the rope cordoning off the restaurant from the walkway and then asked if she would like to order a drink which she did.

While she waited, she checked her phone for messages or missed calls but there were none. What was Rose playing at? She was always on time. Chrissie was about to call to make sure nothing had happened to her when the waiter returned with her glass of wine. Deciding she would give Rose another ten minutes, she put her phone away and took a sip of her wine instead. As she placed the glass back on the table, she heard a voice call in her direction. She looked around.

“Hi, Doc.”

“Senior Constable Anderson. Fancy meeting you here….again,” Chrissie said with genuine surprise as she spied him walking towards her table.

Anderson extended a hand which Chrissie shook. His palm was doughy and damp with perspiration, despite the coolness of the evening which the sea breeze brought with it.

“ ’Josh’ is fine seeing as I’m not on official business,” he laughed as he pulled out the seat opposite her and sat down not letting the lack of invitation put him off. “I’m meeting some friends here for a drink…. I’m a bit early and I saw this hot woman sitting here on her own so I thought I’d keep her company…. It turned out to be you.”

Chrissie was sure she could feel the skin crawl on the back of her neck.

Anderson signalled to a passing waiter that he would like a beer then turned his attention back to Chrissie.

“I thought you were meeting someone here too….Ruby?.... She hasn’t turned up yet?”

“Rose,” Chrissie said. She considered for a moment telling him the true nature of their relationship in the hope of extinguishing any chances he thought he had with her and cutting short his advances but instinct told her not to. She’d bet good money that he was a paid-up member of the “She just needs the right man to straighten her out” contingent. “She’s running late but she shouldn’t be too far away.”

 “A man could die of thirst here,” Anderson said impatiently, “I think I’ll go to the bar myself. Can I get you another wine?”

Only having had one or two mouthfuls, Chrissie shook her head. “No, thanks.”

_Damn it! Where was Rose? Where were Anderson’s friends to relieve her of his company?_

For the want of something better to do, she watched as he strode to the bar. Unexpectedly, tiny bells of recognition began ringing in the back of her head but she wasn’t sure as to what they were telling her. Ignoring them, she went back to looking at her watch and wandering where Rose was and whether she was alright. Perhaps this was payback for the way she had abandoned her at the Delaney’s party.

After being served and emerging from the crowd huddled around the bar, Anderson approached Chrissie’s table again, his beer held in one hand while he replaced his phone in his pocket with the other. The bells were ringing louder. Chrissie paid closer attention. Suddenly it struck her. He was most certainly the right height and the right physique, she thought to herself. Today he wore a white T-shirt rather than navy blue but it had the same snug fit and, if she wasn’t mistaken, the blue jeans he had on were very similar as were the black runners.

On reaching the table, he availed himself of the seat opposite her once more with no qualms as to whether his presence was desired or not. He then raised his glass up with a “Cheer” and chinked the side of Chrissie’s glass.

“Cheers,” she replied weakly as she took a fortifying mouthful of her wine. With the realisation of who this person actually was, Chrissie felt some of the colour drain from her face although she was fairly confident that Anderson was too self-absorbed to notice. She knew she needed to keep her nerve.

Having let Anderson gradually down almost his entire drink while regaling her in tales of his various adventures in which she feigned great interest, Chrissie gamely suggested that he might like to write down his phone number for her for ‘future reference’.

His chest puffed up visibly.

“Why don’t you put it straight into your phone?” he suggested as he watched her rifle through her bag for a pen and paper.

“I don’t have one at the moment,” she lied, “the one I had was rubbish….It kept breaking so I tossed it and I haven’t had a chance to buy a replacement.”

Finally finding what she was looking for, she slipped a small notepad and pen across the table to him.

He flicked through to a blank page and wrote down his name and number. Chrissie noted that he used his left hand when he wrote. Her mind flashed back to the day before and the image of the man carrying what was most likely a gun in his left hand. He then pushed the pad and pen back towards her. She carefully slipped them back into a separate, empty section of her bag where she hoped the fingerprints would be preserved. She could compare them to any found on the stolen SUV.

On draining the last of his beer and seeing that Chrissie was almost finished her drink also, he asked if she would like another round. Chrissie looked at her watch and frowned.

“I’d better not,” she replied, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. “My friend obviously isn't coming for whatever reason and I have to drive. I should be getting home. I’ve got work tomorrow.”

“Right. Maybe I’ll see you another time. Give me a call when you have your new phone.”

“Sure.” Chrissie pushed her seat back, slung her bag over her shoulder and after a final ‘Bye’, left him to his own devices. It took all of her self-control to walk until she was out of sight of the restaurant and SC Josh Anderson rather than break into a run.

Free from the bustle and noise of the crowd now that she had left the waterfront area and entered the streets, she stopped and pulled her phone from her bag. She found Bianca’s number at the top of her ‘Contacts’ list and called her.

She then continued to walk at a brisk pace towards where her car was parked, wishing desperately that she’d left it in an area with more lighting. She listened anxiously as Bianca’s phone rang once….twice… three times. As she walked, she looked back over her shoulder and down the shadowy street sensing that she wasn’t alone but it was empty. Finally, much to her relief, she heard Bianca’s voice at the other end of the line.

“Hi Chrissie. This had better be important.”

“I think I know who he is…”

Hearing the near-panic in her friend’s voice, Bianca immediately untangled her body parts from Janet’s and assumed an upright and alert position on the sofa.

“You think you know who _who_ is?” Bianca asked, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.

The expression on Bianca’s face had become one fraught with concern.

 “The driver of the SUV….the guy who shot….”

Suddenly her words were cut off.

“Chrissie, who is it? Where are you? Chrissie.”

There was no answer. The line was dead.

oooOooo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Bianca immediately redialled Chrissie’s number and listened impatiently as it connected then, much to her frustration, rang out with no answer. She flopped back into the sofa and stared blankly at her phone’s screen while her mind flicked through the possible scenarios and what her next move should be.

“What’s wrong?” Janet asked, noting that Bianca’s brows were drawn close in concentration and her lips had formed a tight, worried line.

“That was Chrissie,” Bianca said in a low, preoccupied murmur, “she said she knew who the driver of the SUV was….Wilkie’s murderer.”

“Who is it?”

“She didn’t get a chance to tell me….we were disconnected.”

Now Janet’s face too wore an expression of concern.

 “Did she say where she was? Should we check that she’s alright?”

“She didn’t say anything else just that she knew who it was…But I do know that she was supposed to be meeting Rose down at The Rocks for drinks at seven but….”

As she spoke, her brain kicked into gear. Bianca began busily going through the contacts list on her phone and then, finding the number she wanted, pressed it. Too restless to remain seated, she rose from the sofa and paced the living room as she waited for it to be answered.

“Hello, Bryant, this is Sergeant Grieve. Can you look up a phone number and address for a Rose Delaney….”

While Bianca provided the officer, who had access to a myriad of personal data at the tap of a few computer keys, with proof of her identity and repeated her request, Janet went about picking up the extraneous cushions that had been carelessly tossed from the sofa onto the floor in their lust-driven haste and put them back in place. She also straightened her blouse, refastened the zip and stud on her jeans and put the lid back firmly on her libido.

It wasn’t long after Bianca had hung up that her phone came to life again, letting her know she had a text message.

“Rose’s phone number and address,” Bianca explained although Janet hadn’t asked. “The strange thing is, Bryant said that it’s the second request for Rose’s phone number today.”

“Who else asked for it?”

“Senior Constable Anderson….at 5:45pm,” Bianca replied as she entered the number she had been given.

“You don’t think…..”

Janet’s question was cut short as Rose Delaney answered. Rather than introduce herself as Sgt Grieve and worry Rose perhaps unnecessarily, Bianca simply gave her first name and explained that she was a friend of Chrissie. Rose indicated rather curtly that Chrissie had mentioned her on more than one occasion so she was well aware of who Bianca was.

When asked if Chrissie was with her, Rose replied that she wasn’t. Initially, it was apparent that Rose was determined to be brusque with her but Bianca persisted and eventually the woman’s defences lowered. In the ensuing conversation, Rose confirmed that she and Chrissie had planned to meet at Odie’s that evening but went on to explain that at about 6:00 pm she had received a phone call from someone….a male. They had given their name but she hadn’t taken much notice. Bianca ran the name ‘Josh Anderson’ by her but it hadn’t sounded familiar which wasn’t a surprise. Anderson certainly wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer but not stupid enough to use his own name if, indeed, it was him making the call. Whoever it was, they had claimed to work for Forensics Investigations Co. and had been asked by Chrissie to let her know that ‘Dr Williams wasn’t going to be able to make their meeting for drinks because she had been called out on a job and it was going to be several hours before she was free’.

At first, Rose had been annoyed because it wasn’t the first time Chrissie had stood her up because of a job and then there had been her early exit from Sunday’s gathering but she soon calmed down and realised that it wasn’t such a big deal and it wasn’t Chrissie’s fault that she had to work, however, she couldn’t help feeling something was ‘off’ about the situation. Usually Chrissie would make the call herself providing profuse apologies. Rose had considered calling Chrissie to check but, in the end, decided against it as she didn’t want it to seem as though she didn’t trust her.

“Do you have the number of the caller stored in your mobile?” Bianca asked. “you haven’t deleted it?”

“It’s still there but now that you mention it, it came up as a ‘private number’ if I remember rightly. What’s going on?”

For Bianca, the alarm bells were ringing with increasing urgency, however, she could see no reason to panic others, including Rose, at this stage. There could well be a perfectly innocuous explanation for what has happened. Perhaps Chrissie was actually called out on a job, although Bianca was fairly sure that if it was something major that required her friend to be called in, she would also be alerted to it one way or another. Very little in the way of major crime in Sydney went down without Bianca being notified either officially or through the grapevine.

 Not wanting to leave Rose entirely in the dark, Bianca explained matter-of-factly that Chrissie had phoned her with some important information but they had been cut off at a vital point and hadn’t called back.

The machinations of Bianca’s mind were sorting through all the information she had so far. Pieces of the puzzle were beginning to free-fall into place although, the picture was by no means clear as yet. The best she could do until she had some clarity was to follow her instincts.

“Rose, whatever you do, don’t delete that number. I’ll be by shortly to pick it up.”

No sooner had Bianca hung up than she was scrolling through her contacts once more. Janet watched on as she put her phone to her ear and waited for it to be answered, again anxiously pacing the length of the room as she did so.

“Damn it,” Janet heard her mutter under her breath with an uncharacteristic vehemence.

“What’s happened?” she asked.

“Someone has called Rose and told her that Chrissie had to attend a crime scene and wouldn’t be able to make their date,” Bianca said in reply, “and Anderson isn’t picking up his phone.”

 “Could this ‘someone’ be your SC Anderson? Is that why he requested her number?”

Bianca tapped her phone mindlessly on the palm of her hand as she thought through recent events searching for an alternate reason for why Anderson may have accessed Rose’s number and called her other than the possibility that there was a rat on her ship.

“I know he was keen on Chrissie. Maybe he thought he’d take Rose out of the picture so he could have her to himself….I don’t think he’s aware that she bats for the other team or if he would even be deterred by that knowledge….What he did know was that they were meeting up because he heard her tell me.”

Janet gave her a dubious look.

“Sounds a bit desperate…..So, if it’s someone else, where did Chrissie see this man she thinks is Wilkie’s murderer? When she was with Anderson? Surely, she would have told him rather than wait to give you a call. She phoned just before 7:30pm so perhaps she was either at Odie’s with Anderson or he wasn’t too far away….Unless, of course, the person she thinks is the murderer is your SC Anderson.”

Bianca mulled over the possibilities. It had been a conclusion that she too had been steadily working towards but had had no real basis for her theory other than a gnawing feeling in her gut so she’d kept it to herself, although, she was becoming increasingly concerned by the fact that her Senior Constable’s name was popping up in all the wrong places. Even now, though, there were other potential angles she needed to cover first before she was convinced she was right. However, the implications if she _was_ right were far-reaching. _Why would he kill Francis Wilkie?_ _Was he acting alone or was he under someone else’s instruction?_ Bianca recalled how uncharacteristically nervous Anderson had seemed when they’d gone to question Sid Delaney. _Was he working for Sid Delaney or Delaney’s brother or were they all in it together?_ She needed answers and she needed them fast. Right now, however, her first task would be to find out if Chrissie was actually out on a job and if not, to check if had anyone seen her at Odie’s and whether she had been with someone. She also wanted to know where the hell Anderson was at this point in time and why he wasn’t answering her calls?   _If Anderson was with Chrissie, was it just a clumsy attempt at a date or did he have something else in mind?_ Setting her nerves on edge like nails on a chalkboard was the thought that he had possibly killed at least once before. He could do it again.

Unlike Janet’s precious judiciary system, in Bianca’s world suspects were exactly that, suspects, until there were solid facts to say otherwise and despite his being a police officer, Bianca had put SC Anderson on that list. Bianca hadn’t been a fan of Anderson since he’d started but she’d initially put it down to his laissez-faire attitude and questionable competence. Perhaps there was more to it? It galled her to think that there might be a bent cop on her team. There would be no going easy if her hunch proved to be right. Her trust was an essential factor she awarded to each member of her team and she detested the idea that someone may have seen fit to take advantage of that prize.

“That thought did occur to me,” Bianca said distractedly as she slipped her sandals back on her feet and straightened her clothes, “Listen, Janet, I’ve got to go….”

“Of course.”

Although she fully understood, Janet couldn’t help but feel more than a little disappointed as she accompanied Bianca to the door. It wasn’t how she’d hoped to spend the evening, Bianca off on a job and her in bed alone.

“Wait a minute,” Janet said as she turned and headed back quickly into the kitchen where she rifled through a drawer, returning with a set of keys in her hand.

“It’s a spare set. You can let yourself back in when you have finished for the night,” she said as she pressed the keys into the palm of Bianca’s hand.

Bianca gave her a small smile that acknowledged the unspoken sentiment behind the gesture.

“It will probably be a very late night. Are you sure you want me waking you up?”

“Yes,” she answered simply as she placed a brief kiss on Bianca’s lips before opening the door for her and watching as she walked out into the night.

oooOooo

The first Chrissie knew of his presence was a large, clammy palm pressed firmly over her mouth and her phone being savagely snatched from her hand.

“I thought you said your phone wasn’t working,” said the voice which Chrissie immediately recognised as belonging to Josh Anderson although it held a much less-friendly tone now. “I hate it when chicks lie to me.”

He tossed the phone carelessly onto the concrete footpath in front of them then, using the full force of his weight, he drove his heel into it, shattering the screen and splintering the plastic casing. Twice more, he pounded it with his foot until he had rendered it nothing more than a thousand useless shards of glass and plastic. Satisfied that there was no part of the phone that was retrievable, he then scattered the pieces with the toe of his shoe, sending the larger bits scooting towards a nearby drain.

The tension in his body had transferred to his grip over Chrissie’s mouth and she was finding it difficult to breathe. In an attempt to gain oxygen, she pulled at the fingers that covered her mouth but it was to no avail. Anderson’s size and strength were too much for her.

No longer having to worry about the phone, Anderson used his free hand to grab Chrissie’s arm so that there was no chance of her escaping, his grip so tight it made her eyes water.

“Calm down, Doc,” he ordered in a harsh whisper as he hurriedly checked up and down the street for possible witnesses to his actions. He put his mouth close to her ear. “I’m going to uncover your mouth but just in case you might be thinking of doing something stupid like screaming or running, I should warn you that I have a ‘friend’ tucked into the top of my jeans and you’ve seen firsthand the damage it can do. Understand?”

Chrissie stopped her struggling and nodded as best she could. Cautiously, the hand was removed. She immediately gulped in deep mouthfuls of air to feed her starving lungs.

In order to prevent her from hightailing it or perhaps trying to lash out at him, Anderson grabbed Chrissie’s wrist and drew her arm forcefully up behind her back far enough to make her give a sharp cry.

“Now where’s your car?” he demanded in a fierce whisper.

Unable to trust her voice to answer without giving away her fear, Chrissie simply nodded in the direction of the side street where she had parked earlier that evening.

He moved to stand beside her and with one arm behind her waist, his hand still firmly gripping her wrist which held her arm to the middle of her back while the other hand rested on what Chrissie could only assume was the handle of the gun beneath his T-shirt, he shoved her in the direction she had indicated. To the casual glance of any passer-by, it would appear as though they were a couple out for an evening stroll.

Anderson’s long stride demanded that she keep up a pace which she wasn’t used to in her high heels, causing her to almost stumble once or twice on the uneven footpath and in virtual darkness. Streetlights were few and far between and of the ones there, several weren’t working.

While she concentrated on maintaining her footing, she also remained alert for any chance to escape although she’d never be able to run fast enough in her high heels. For the second time in two days Chrissie found herself wishing she’d chosen more sensible footwear. Maybe, if she was lucky enough, a group of people would come down the street, heading out for a night of entertainment down on the harbour. Maybe she could signal to them or call out. Would Anderson dare to draw his gun with others around to witness it? Should she even risk it? Perhaps she could distract him enough that he might drop his guard or, at the very least, loosen his grip on her arm so she could make a break for it if the opportunity arose. What she didn’t want was to be trapped in a car with him, driving to who knew where.

oooOooo

At Rose Delaney’s place, a spacious penthouse in a block of units that shouted modernism and wealth from its prime harbourside location at Double Bay not more than a few kilometres from her parents’ house, Bianca collected Rose’s mobile phone, promising her that it would be returned as soon as possible. She also attempted to abate Rose’s increasing concerns by assuring her that Chrissie’s safety was the top priority for her and her team of AFP officers and yes, they would contact her as soon as any information turned up. The latter may have been a small but necessary white lie, depending on what exactly had happened to Chrissie but it served its purpose of calming her to some degree. A promise was also extracted from Rose. She was to contact Bianca immediately if she thought of anything that might be in any way relevant or, of course, if she heard from Chrissie in the meantime.

As well as the phone, Bianca was also given Chrissie’s address and the two keys that would let her into Chrissie’s flat. It occurred to Bianca that Chrissie may have returned home once she realised that Rose was a ‘no-show’ and had made the call from there. Perhaps something had happened…a fall or a robbery….to cause the phone to disconnect. That last thought saw Bianca put her foot down on the accelerator.

Unlike the creation that was her work facility, the three-unit apartment block where Chrissie lived surprised Bianca with its blandness. Its red brick exterior and solid construction dated it back to the 1970s as did its purely utilitarian architecture.

Bianca entered the property via the driveway. Security lights popped to life, one by one, as she past each of the three mission-brown roller-doors that designated the garages. Beside each garage was a wooden door which allowed the tenants access to their stairwell. Bianca walked to the end of the building where she used the smaller of the two keys Rose had given her to unlock the door to Flat Number 3. Once she was inside, she pushed on the time-delay button which simultaneously saw the stairwell flood with light then took the stairs, two at a time, up to the landing which fronted the door to Chrissie’s unit. After knocking and receiving no answer, Bianca used the second key to unlock it and then cautiously opened the door. The place was in total darkness. Bianca’s fingers searched the wall near the entry until she located a switch which she flipped on, illuminating an open-plan living and dining room arrangement.  As she stepped over the threshold, she called Chrissie’s name but it merely echoed off the walls and returned unanswered.

Inside the unit revealed a generous floor plan which was significantly larger than most modern units. It was obvious to Bianca that Chrissie had refurbished it to her own inimitable taste. Gone were the autumnal colours symbolic of the seventies era in which the units were built…the burnt orange, the harvest gold and the avocado-green….no doubt, hidden deep below other colour fads that had come and gone since. Chrissie’s colour of choice on the walls throughout the entire place hinted at grey. Where the floors in the living room and bedrooms would have been originally festooned with a deep, shag-pile carpet, Bianca’s footsteps were muted by a neutral-coloured sisal carpet and where there would have once been geometric-patterned linoleum in the kitchen, dining and bathroom, the heels of her boots tapped on honey-coloured floorboards. Modern utilities had been installed in each of these rooms and smooth, clean lines replaced the busy design of the original décor.

As she moved from room to room, she also noted that Chrissie was still very much a ‘neat freak’…. everything in its place and a place for everything. Unfortunately, the one thing not in the place at all was Chrissie herself.

oooOooo

After a long silence, Chrissie managed to steady the thudding in her chest enough to say, “You’re him, aren’t you? You’re the guy who forced that car off the road….and shot the driver?”

His smug smile was all she needed as affirmation. Chrissie sensed a tide of anger begin to rise, flowing in over her fear. He had damaged her lovely car when they were on the mountain road, nearly killing her in the process and now he was threatening to harm her again. How dare he treat her life…any life… so callously!

 “Where are we going?” she asked.

“We’re going on a drive to your place of work, Doc…You’ve got something there that I want.”

When Anderson had heard that a phone had been found in Wilkie’s car he was mortified. He knew that it must be the one belonging to Michael Collins as he already had Wilkie’s phone. He had discovered it lying in tufts of grass beside the wreckage and pocketed it before finishing off the job by putting a bullet through the man’s forehead. At the time, he figured he was doing Wilkie a favour as his broken body lay sprawled on the ground, limbs bent at awkward angles and blood oozing from his mouth and nose indicating irreparably-damaged internal organs. His last breath had been a deep, painful moan. It was a bit like putting a sick dog out of its misery, he’d thought.

Anderson was also aware of the significance of the information that was quite possibly stored on Collins’ phone and the implications it would have. Heads would roll including his own and that would only be the repercussion from the police force. He didn’t dare to even consider what might happen to him if the other people he worked for thought he had failed them. He had to locate that phone and destroy it along with any information that had been trawled from its memory card before the damn thing landed on his sergeant’s desk. Unfortunately, once Dr Williams provided access to the facility where the phone and its file were stored and handed it over, she would become a liability ….one he hadn’t planned on. These days, with forensics the way it was, one had to be meticulous. Until he had a chance to think through a foolproof plan to dispose of this inconvenience, he’d stash her away in the same place Wilkie had been heading to when he’d met his fate. It was an old farmhouse up in the mountains that belonged to the Delaney’s or, more accurately, Mrs Delaney. It had been the family home but now both parents were deceased and it had come into her possession.

The main house was quite comfortable but more significantly, there was a large tractor shed on the property which would come in useful for his purposes. Wilkie had been given the key to the house by Margaret Delaney along with the cash and told to stay there and lay low until the Bradshaw case had been settled. Anderson had found the key when he’d searched Wilkie’s wallet. He hadn’t been interested in the money either in the wallet or that was hidden in the boot of the car. Instead, he was ensuring that there was nothing….a scribbled note or perhaps a phone number….that connected him to Wilkie.   

Having to kill her was a shame in some ways, he thought, as she had the two things that appealed to him most - good looks and wealth - but from where he stood, it was unavoidable.

They entered the narrow side street where her car was parked. The multi-storey office buildings looming on either side reduced the amount of residual light penetrating the street, deepening the darkness and cutting away any details, leaving only shadowy contours.  If she was to avoid being trapped in the car with him, she’d have to act soon.

Almost half way along the laneway, Chrissie came to a halt beside a red Toyota Camry.

“This it?” Anderson laughed.

“Yes. It’s a hire car because some idiot wrecked my Porsche.” Chrissie knew it probably wasn’t in her best interest to goad him but she couldn’t help herself.

Anderson laughed again. “A bit of a shame that. The Porsche was very sexy. I would have liked a ride in it someday.”

“ _Never going to happen_ ,” Chrissie thought but managed to keep it to herself.

“Keys,” Anderson demanded putting out a hand.

Chrissie went to search in her bag for the keys only to have it dragged from her shoulder.

“I’ll find them. Who knows what you’ve got in there. Pepper spray…alarms...an AK180,” he said, chuckling at his own joke as he delved into her handbag.

With his attention taken, Chrissie saw her chance. Relying on the threat of his gun, he had released his hold on her to find the keys. She kicked back as hard as she could at his left knee and ran the hard edge of her shoe down his shinbone then took off, hoping she’d caused sufficient injury so as to immobilise him long enough for her to put some distance between them.

“Bitch!” he spat at her through teeth gritted in agony as he doubled over and clutched his damaged knee.

Realising that he was unable to pursue her for the moment, Chrissie took a brief second to toss aside her shoes. Unhindered now by her heels and with the corner now in sight, she ran as fast as she could while ducking and weaving behind wheelie bins and other vehicles in case he chose to put caution aside and use his gun.  Once she reached the intersection up ahead she would have a choice of side streets and laneways to disappear down and hopefully lose him.

Watching her flee down the street, Anderson knew that there was no chance he would be able to chase after her on foot but he couldn’t afford to let her escape. For an instant, he considered pulling his gun from his waistband and ‘winging’ her but then thought better of the idea. The street was too dark for him to be accurate and if he was to find the phone and access the computer system, he needed her alive and well. It was then that he realised he still had her bag in his possession. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his knee and shin as best he could, Anderson rooted around inside it until he came up with the car keys. He pressed the fob that unlocked the Camry then hobbled around to the driver’s side where he let his tall frame flop into the seat, tossing the handbag onto the passenger seat and cursing loudly as his injured knee hit the steering wheel. After a quick adjustment to the seat, he started the car, immediately pressing down heavily on the accelerator.

Hearing the rev of an engine, Chrissie braved a quick look over her shoulder to see what was happening. The car was driving away from her. Anderson had given up. Relief flooded through her as she slowed to a jog and caught her breath. Both the fear and the exertion had her heart rat-a-tat-tatting against her rib cage like rounds being fired from a machine gun.

Too frightened to stop completely until she was in safe surrounds and with no better plan, she continued on at a steady jog towards the corner and the options it offered.

Suddenly there was a screech of brakes and the slam of a car door. It was red Camry.   Anderson had circled the block and cut her off. Before she could turn and run, a solid fist crashed into her jaw. There was a sudden surge of pain. Her knees buckled. For a brief moment she was conscious of the sharp grit from the road pressing into the bare skin of her face and arms and a trail of something wet flowing from her nose that was almost certainly broken. There was a ringing in head and the world was spinning and then, mercifully, nothing…. nothing but darkness.

oooOooo

Seven of the eight members of Bianca’s team had assembled themselves around the single, long table in the office’s conference room. Senior Constable Josh Anderson was conspicuous by his absence. While they waited for their sergeant to arrive, they speculated as to the cause of this late-night summons. Although their thoughts differed in the detail, they were in agreeance that it had to be something to do with the Collins’ case and that they could all do with the money from the overtime.

Keen to discover what was going on, an immediate hush fell over the room as Bianca entered.

First up, she thanked them for giving up their evening and probably several hours of sleep and then proceeded to share the details she had of what had happened with Dr Williams and the action that needed to be taken.

“Are we to treat SC Anderson as a serious suspect on this one, Sergeant?” SC Driscoll asked as Bianca wound up her explanation of the events that now had them gathered here.

“Until he can exclude himself from suspicion by providing a viable alibi for the time of the Wilkie’s accident, he’s a suspect. If you come across him, you’re not to broach him on the matter and you’re to let me know immediately. We’ll work it from there, however, I want you to maintain visual contact with him until he’s safely back here. Is that understood?”

There was a rumble of mutterings but they indicated en masse that her instructions were clear. Over the previous months, their feelings for the new comer had mostly fluctuated between tolerance and indifference and each had been relieved when Sgt Grieve had announced that she would be taking him onboard personally as her partner. They also detested the thought of being betrayed as much as they knew their boss did.

“I’ve checked Dr Williams’ unit and there was no sign of her having been there for several hours.  I’ve also called the emergency contact number for her work. She wasn’t on standby and there have been no jobs called in for tonight so we’re fairly certain she’s not working,” Bianca said as she began to meter out the tasks, “Alex, I want you to take this to our IT guys and have them take a look at this phone to see if they can find out who made the bogus call to Rose Delaney. It needs to be done as soon as possible. Drag someone out of bed if necessary.”

Bianca slid Rose Delaney’s mobile phone across the tabletop in the direction Constable Alex Foster.

“Cathy, can you and Murray go down to Odie’s on The Rocks and see if anybody saw Dr Williams down there this evening and if so, find out if she was with anyone? Take a photo of Dr Williams and one of Anderson with you.  Also check out the surrounding area for any sign of either car. I know Chrissie likes to park in Wilson’s Carpark on Harrington. At the moment she’s driving a hire car…according to Rose Delaney, it’s a red 2017 Toyota Camry….”

“Do we have a registration number?” Constable Murray Ludgate asked as he took out his notebook in preparation.

Bianca shook her head. “Afraid not.”

“Do we know the hire company she used?”

Bianca had been about to reply in the negative again when Constable Foster piped up with, “Here it is.”

All eyes focussed on Alex as she showed Driscoll and Ludgate a photo on Rose’s phone of a red Toyota Camry with the number plate clearly visible and a ‘Hertz Hire Car’ sticker attached to the top corner of the windscreen. The photo was attached to a text message which read, “It’s a few steps down from the Porsche.”

“Alex, you can’t go through the personal messages on that phone….not without permission,” Bianca said sternly before adding on the side and with just the hint of a grin, “but good work.”

Alex struggled to contain the smile that wanted to break out across her face.

“Before you see the tech guys, call Hertz and see if there’s a tracking system associated with this vehicle. If there is, get them onto it immediately,” Bianca added, indicating that she wanted it done now rather than later.

Taking her cue, Alex rose obediently from the table and headed for the outer office and her desk where she brought her computer to life and began the search for relevant phone numbers.

“Andrew, Connie, I want you to go through any and all CCTV footage within a decent radius of the area and see what you can pick up….You’re looking for any visual on Dr Williams and/or Anderson but keep an open mind….remember, we not absolutely sure it’s Anderson we’re looking for. It could be someone entirely different…. And, of course, see if you can sight her car,” Bianca said to her two other team members, “I’ll get the local ‘uniforms’ to do regular sweeps past her unit in case she turns up there at some stage. Andrew, get an APB put out on Chrissie’s hire vehicle and Anderson’s car.”

Both constables withheld the groan they longed to give, knowing that the task they had been given would mean, for the most part, tedious hours in front of a screen going through useless footage looking for that one needle in the haystack. However, finding that ‘needle’ would be a reward in itself and they were up for the challenge.

Bianca’s other two team members, Constable Faith Harvey and her partner, Constable Derek Mills were instructed to take a drive out to Forensics Investigations Co. in the off-chance that perhaps Dr Williams had decided to take herself out there to do some work if Rose hadn’t shown up.  

“Are there any questions?’ Bianca asked.

Being none, the room suddenly became filled with the sounds of scraping chairs, notebooks snapping shut and busy chatter as the team rose from their seats as one and filed purposefully out of the room, officers pairing up and heading off in various directions depending on their task.

Bianca made her own beeline towards her office. She hadn’t forgotten that there was another case they had to solve and while she waited for any word on Chrissie, for that was all she could do for now, hope that she had all bases covered and wait to hear back from her team so she could co-ordinate any action that was needed, she booted up her computer. If she was lucky, the security footage from Delaney’s place will be in a file waiting for her to take a look at it.  As she waited for the screen to come to life, she couldn’t help but think it was all somehow tied together in a very frustrating knot…. Bradshaw, Collins, Wilkie, Delaney, Anderson and the disappearance of her friend. It was up to her to it tease out and in a hurry before Chrissie came to any harm, assuming, of course, it wasn’t already too late.

oooOooo

Once Janet had closed and locked the door, she had tried to watch some television but she was too restless to settle. Her mind was constantly turning like the workings of an overwound watch as she tried to make sense of the events of the last few weeks – the half-baked investigation into the death of Lance Bradshaw and the prosecution she was supposed to carry out despite her doubts growing by the day. She would be grateful for the adjournment so facts could be checked more thoroughly. Then there was the murder of Michael Collins and, more recently, Francis Wilkie and now the likely abduction of Dr Williams, the only person who could possibly provide a positive identification that could go a long way to solving the puzzle. In amongst it all, her thoughts were also inexplicably drawn to the friendship of Margaret Delaney and Denise Bradshaw as she wondered if Chrissie’s instincts about them had been accurate. It was an unlikely pairing but not inconceivable.

In her head, Janet tried shuffling the pieces of information and evidence she had from each incident, first one way and then another, to form a scenario that made sense but everything she came up with was flimsy at best. In the meantime, she’d completely lost track of the plot of whatever it was she was supposed to be watching.

In an attempt to clear her head, she’d gone upstairs and checked on the twins. They were fast asleep. She considered her own bed but knew it would be pointless. She’d only toss and turn. Her brain was racing. Eventually, she decided to use her late-night alertness to go over her preparation for the case she was presenting in court the next morning. 

She poured herself a splash red wine before settling at the table where the manila folders she had brought home from work were piled and opened her laptop. She had already been over her notes several times but it wouldn’t hurt for her to go over it once more to ensure justice prevailed. Maybe, in her heightened state, she would come up with an irrefutable argument.

The Crown was prosecuting 26-year-old Patrick McSweeney who, following a session of heavy drinking with his mates at a Kings Cross bar, had moved on to Oxford St where they became embroiled in an argument with several other patrons. In the heat of the moment, McSweeney had thrown a random punched which found its mark on the side of the head of a young male he and his mates had been taunting. The force of the punch had knocked its victim to the ground, his head smashing against the hard surface causing him to lose consciousness. Paramedics had been called but he had died before they had even arrived, his head lying in a pool of tell-tale blood from a crack in his skull.  If Janet could convince the jury of McSweeney’s guilt, which she was determined to do, the court would be obliged to enforce the mandatory eight-year sentence for such a crime.

oooOooo

Bianca sat in her car which was parked in a space across the street from Janet’s place, massaging her weary eyes and trying to decide whether or not she should use the key Janet had given her to go inside. A glance had her phone to told her that it was 1:15am which didn’t help.

An hour earlier, SC Driscoll and Constable Ludgate had returned to the office and recounted what they’d managed to discover from their evening excursion down to The Rocks.

One of the waiting staff remembered speaking to a woman he confirmed as being Dr Williams at a little after seven…he had started his shift at seven and she had spoken to him not long afterwards. He recalled that she’d asked him if he’d noticed a woman come into the restaurant whom she described as being about 165 cm tall with a curvaceous figure, chestnut brown hair and green eyes. He replied that he hadn’t seen her but added that he’d only just come on.  The woman had then requested a table for two. He showed her to the table by the hedge and had then taken her drink order. When he returned with her drink, a male who matched the photo of SC Anderson, had joined her. The waiter mentioned that he was of the impression that the woman wasn't too ecstatic about the man sitting with her. One of the women tending the bar also identified Anderson.

Bianca had asked if they’d managed to locate anyone who had seen them leave and had they left together or separately. In answer, Ludgate referred to his notebook and then informed his sergeant that the same waiter had seen Dr Williams leave after finishing her drink. According to the him, Anderson stayed on long enough to also finish his own drink, no more than five minutes, before leaving too.

Driscoll added that they had combed the nearby streets and carparks but there was no sign of Dr Williams’ red Camry nor Anderson’s Ford utility. It had also occurred to them to check Anderson’s flat which they did on the way back. His vehicle was in the garage but nobody had responded when they had knocked on the door other than a neighbour who was upset at the disturbance at such a late hour. They had made the most of the opportunity to ask the neighbour some questions about Anderson’s whereabouts but they were unable to shed any light on his recent activities other than to say that they had seen him get into a white car, possibly an Uber, at about 6:30pm.

With there being nothing further they could do until the morning but wait and see what turned up from their current lines of investigation, SC Driscoll had offered to remain on duty and oversee things while Sergeant Grieve went home for some sleep. Bianca had resisted at first, feeling personally responsible for the safety of her friend, however, Driscoll had been insistent, promising Bianca she would contact her the instant any news came through.  Finally, Bianca had relented. She couldn’t deny she was weary and she knew she would be able to think more clearly with a couple of hours of sleep under her belt although she wasn’t convinced she was capable of sleep with Chrissie possibly facing real danger.

Being such a late hour, Bianca had considered driving home, however, despite her worry, she couldn’t help but be enticed by the thought of curling up in bed with Janet’s presence to comfort her so here she was sitting in her car, unsure that she had made the right decision.

Finally, having decided that she was here now so rather than waste more time she should just go in, Bianca rapidly tapped out a text message which she sent to Janet letting her know that she was there.

She had considered her two options carefully, the first being to startle a sleeping Janet by creeping in unannounced or the second which was to risk annoying her by waking her with a text message. She’d decided that the latter was the lesser of the two evils.  As the brief reply of “OK” arrived, Bianca collected her few belongings, locked the car and made her way across the road, unlocking and relocking the security door and then letting herself in the main door. She took the time to remove her boots and leave them by the entrance so she could slink noiselessly up to Janet’s room without waking the children. The two lamps Janet had thoughtfully left on for her gave off enough dimmed light for her to make her way to the stairs quite easily although she did manage to stub her toe on the newel post forcing her to bite back the cursing that is commonly known to relieve such pain. She took the rest of the stairs more carefully and then tiptoed silently on her stockinged feet along the hall which led past the room where the twins slept and the bathroom until she reached the main bedroom. The far-side lamp had been left on for her and from the door way Bianca could see that Janet had fallen back to sleep after answering her text message with her phone still in her hand. She moved quietly to the bedside and carefully slipped the phone from under Janet’s fingers. Janet stirred but didn’t wake.

After making quick use of the ensuite, Bianca removed her clothes and eased herself under the covers, immediately aware of the warmth of the body beside her. Somewhere in that stupor between sleeping and waking, Janet became aware of her presence and accordingly moved herself in closer until she could feel the press of Bianca’s bare skin against her own. She slipped an arm across Bianca’s hips and touched a kiss to her cheek. 

Despite doubting she would manage any rest with all that was happening, it wasn’t long after her head had hit the pillow and her eyes had closed that sleep found her.

oooOooo

With still an hour or more before her alarm was set to awaken her, Janet stirred and instinctively reached out for Bianca but the space beside her was empty. She opened her eyes and, as things gradually came into focus, she could see that Bianca’s suit which she’d hung behind the door was no longer there.

Fighting off that early morning lethargy, Janet pushed aside the covers and rose a little unsteadily from the bed. After slipping on the oversized T-shirt she kept on-hand for use in emergencies, she headed downstairs in the hope of catching Bianca before she left.

Janet found her standing at the kitchen bench, suited up ready for work, sipping a cup of tea and flicking casually through one of the travel brochures for Fiji that had been left there the previous night. Bianca looked up when she heard Janet enter the room and cast an appreciative eye over her. The well-worn T-shirt she had on was clearly a favourite, its faded colour and shapeless form evidence of many rounds in the washing machine. Bianca couldn’t help but notice the way one side of the neckline drooped, exposing a perfect shoulder.

“Sexy,” Bianca commented with a cheeky, lop-sided smile.

Janet felt the colour rise in her cheeks. It had been a long time since anyone had called her ‘sexy’ at any time of day, let alone first thing in the morning although she was fairly certain Bianca was poking fun at her, be it ever so gently. She combed her fingers through her tangle of blonde hair, conscious of the fact that it probably resembled some kind of bird’s nest and smiled back as she took one or two steps closer enabling her to reach out and adjusted the collar on Bianca’s shirt, an excuse just to touch her really. She then made a pretence of smoothing out the top of the shirt with the palms of her hand, allowing her fingers to trail lightly down over Bianca’s breasts and along the length of the woman’s torso, coming to rest on her slight hips. Another time, Janet may have worked her fingers inside the waistband of the trousers but with Chrissie still missing as far as she knew, now was not appropriate.

“Any news on Chrissie?” Janet asked through a stifled yawn. The question worked like a cold shower, putting out any flames that may have been left smouldering.

“Nothing,” Bianca said, sounding much more alert than Janet. “I’m about to head in and see what new information people have come up with while I’ve been gone. I’m hoping the hire car company is one that uses a tracking system to keep tabs on their vehicles or that Josh Anderson has turned up…Are you planning a holiday to Fiji?”

“What?” Janet was caught off-guard by the sudden change of tack in the conversation.

“All these brochures you have on Fiji…. Are you planning a holiday?” Bianca said again.

“Not exactly….I was trying to get a feel for the place, that’s all.”

“Why do you want to get a feel for the place?” Bianca asked, making an effort to keep the ‘cop’ tone out of her voice.

“It’s nothing….really. I’ll talk to you later about it.”

“I’ve got five minutes. Why don’t you talk to me now?”

Janet was quite awake now and had her wits fully-gathered. Although she didn’t feel the need to justify her actions she also had no reason to hide them from anyone, including Bianca and, as always, her first line of defence was not to hold back.

“Tony’s offered me a job in Fiji if I want it….training prosecutors,” she replied with all the self-assurance she could muster at this time of the morning.

“A job? In Fiji? When?”

“Soon….next month probably.”

“Next month? For how long?”

Janet hesitated. She knew the answer would not go down well without the preamble.

“Two years….possibly a little longer.”

Rendered speechless by this bombshell, Bianca stepped away from Janet and paced the short distance to the end of the bench and back while she assembled her thoughts.

“And were you planning to discuss this with me,” she finally said, turning to Janet and fixing her with a glare, “or were you just going to walk out on me like you did last time?”

Not one to back down, Janet drew on her tenacity.

“I haven’t made any decisions yet with or without you but yes, of course, I was going to discuss it with you.”

“Don’t you think that we should discuss it _before_ you make a decision?”

Realising her possible mistake and how much she had upset Bianca, Janet’s stubborn resolve began to melt away.

“Janet, I thought we were partners,” Bianca continued less sternly, her anger giving way to disbelief and disappointment, “I thought we were in a relationship. Don’t you think this is something that people in a relationship should talk through and decide together.”

“I haven’t had a chance to talk to you about it… you’ve been busy working,” Janet said, defying that part of her brain that was telling her to go easy, “and besides, it’s up to me to decide what is best for my family…for the children and me.”

She hadn’t intended to hit so hard. The words had just come out before she could stop them. _“How did this conversation turn from romance to wrecking ball so quickly,” Janet asked herself, stunned by the sudden change in mood of the conversation, “and why am I so pathetic at this relationship stuff?”_

“Right,” Bianca murmured. Janet had played the ‘family’ card. There was no topping that. Obviously, she didn’t consider Bianca to be part of their family, not even an honorary one which left her no choice but to concede defeat.

 With disconcerting silence, Bianca moved across to the sink where she poured away the dregs of her tea and gave the mug a quick rinse before setting it in the drainer. She then turned to face Janet again, their eyes meeting momentarily. Bianca’s words did not acknowledge the watery film she saw forming there nor the slight quiver in Janet’s jaw as she added, in an almost perfunctory tone, “I have to go. I have a friend to find.”

From the kitchen, Janet followed the sound of Bianca’s boots on the floor as she departed. There was the chink of metal as the keys she’d given Bianca the night before were tossed onto the small sidetable in the hallway and finally, the soft thud of the door being closed.

oooOooo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's not a whole lot of 'Janet/Bianca loveliness' in this chapter but it's coming....soon.

The thick, pre-dawn blanket of cloud that had covered the mountain top during the night had been dragged upwards by the warmth of the sun as it steadily rose above the horizon. Only a few thin, white wisps remained to drift lazily across the background of dazzling blue sky. From the tall gums with their ghostly white trunks distinct against the bushland surrounding the farm, a chorus of magpies could be heard calling out across the hillside, grateful for yet another day. Cicadas too, were tuning-up in preparation for the hours of summer heat that lay ahead.

Doing the best it could to hold back the bush from the farmland was a splintery post and rail fence, its timber split with age and covered in a patchwork of lichen. With no one around to maintain it, many of the rails had eventually rotted through and rested at odds with their uprights, capable of keeping nothing in or out.

In the past, the property had been a dairy farm but there was little evidence of it now. The sea of thigh-high grass, flower heads and patches of thistle that filled the holding paddock told of a prolonged absence of livestock and several years of disuse.  Originally, it had been owned and worked by Margaret Delaney’s grandfather and her father in turn, but after his death there was no one in the family interested in continuing the tradition nor was anyone wanting to buy the land so it had been left to lie, the victim of neglect.  

To access the place, Anderson had had to follow half a kilometre of narrow, dirt track, heavily corrugated by recent downpours, which cut off from the main road before carving a swathe through the bushland until it eventually reached a house that sat to one side of the property; a traditional, wooden structure with its peeling paint, rusting roof and sweeping verandahs with gap-toothed railings. The track ran past the house and eventually circled back to the main road but he had pulled off and parked the red Camry on the lower side of the house.  Even in the darkness, one look at the place had told him that its only regular inhabitants of late were most likely a family of possums and perhaps one or two visiting snakes hungry for a feed.

Having arrived at the farm a few minutes shy of eleven o’clock, Anderson had retrieved Chrissie from the boot of the car. She gave little in the way of resistance and he’d easily shouldered her limp body like the proverbial sack of potatoes and trudged down to the work shed. There, he’d locked her up for the night inside a tiny, windowless room within this shed. It was where Margaret Delaney’s father had once secured his tools with meticulous care. The thick, black outline of each instrument carefully marked on the pegboard above the workbench where they’d once hung, however, was they only sign they’d ever been there. Since his passing away, everything that wasn’t bolted down in the room had been removed and sold or, in some cases, given away. Now there was nothing inside its timber frame except a dusty, concrete floor, a bare work bench and some vacant shelving along one wall. An empty light socket swung from the ceiling by a metre of frayed cord. It seemed that the only thing left behind was the musty smell of sweat, engine oil and old wood shavings. The room was closed off with a sturdy, timber door. Anderson was able to secure it by sliding across the heavy bolt affixed to the outside. There was no way out of the room and no one around to want to break their way in.

With Dr Williams secured away, he made his way through the darkness back to the house. Using the key he’d taken from Wilkie, he unlocked the back door and ran his hand along the wall on the inside until he found a switch. When he flicked it, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the electricity was still connected. Anderson was not the only one surprised by the light as there was a sudden scuttle of various life forms as the room, which was quite clearly a kitchen, was bathed in a weak, yellowish glow.

His only task before finding somewhere to sleep for the night was to give himself a cursory wash which included cleaning away the blood where Chrissie had dragged her nails down his cheek. He inspected the scratches using the old, mottled mirror attached to the front of the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. There were three tracts that ran a good five centimetres from just below his eye and they were deep enough that they would most likely leave a scar. He winced as he pressed a wet cloth against the wounds.

When he’d finally made it to bed, he had slept much better than he’d expected to with the help of a comfortable mattress left in the main bedroom of the house and having completely exhausted his supply of adrenaline.

Much to his shock, it was almost mid-morning before he stirred despite the light from the sun which streamed in through the bedroom window where a lone curtain, its fabric frail and moth-eaten, hung precariously from one side of a curtain rod; its mate, having long given up the ghost, lay in a heap on the floor allowing the daylight to pour in. He had thought to be up much earlier than this but obviously his body had different ideas. Nevertheless, he’d risen refreshed and able to think more clearly as to what it was he should do.

Anderson followed the path which had been worn into the ground by the constant tread of boots over the many decades that the farm had been worked and which was still faintly visible. It led from the rear of the house down to the collecting yard. A short way along, it branched off towards the milking shed which was now nothing more than an empty, hollow structure stripped bare of all its workings and left to gradually fall into a state of terminal disrepair but he had ignored this detour and continued on straight ahead until he came to the man-made dam which was full to almost overflowing with murky, brown water.

He stood on its edge which was still soft from the summer rains and lit a cigarette then watched pensively as the curl of smoke he slowly released from his lungs rose up and gradually drifted away. He peered out across the paddock, towards the rows of tree-covered hills beyond as he continued to draw on his cigarette.

 _“What possessed people to come and live such a lonely, unexciting life,”_ Anderson wondered to himself as he finally dropped his cigarette butt into the muddy earth and ground it out with the heel of his shoe. _“Listening to nothing but the cackle of the birds and the incessant screech of insects, day in and day out, was sure to drive a person insane.”_

Anderson tried to imagine himself living in a place like this as he considered the advantages, if any, of working on a farm. Perhaps, if he gave it a chance, he might grow to like the peace and quiet it offered. He could buy a small property with the money he’d managed to accumulate thanks to his extra-curricular activities and make a new start to his life, one that followed a less reckless path to his current lifestyle.

As he pondered the possibility, he gave a cynical laugh. What would his father think of him giving up his ‘respectable’ job as an officer of the law to work on the land? Predictably, he’d no doubt tell him he was being ridiculous, that he wouldn’t be any good at it anyway so not to waste his money or his time. _Anderson laughed to himself again as he thought, “Well, fuck you, old man. You’ve put shit on me for the last time.”_

Commander James Anderson had been a highly-respected and highly-decorated member of the NSW police force until his retirement five years ago. As far back as Josh could remember, it was always assumed that as the only son, he would follow the same career path as his father. He couldn’t recall ever being consulted or having had much of a say in the matter, however, with no better alternative presenting itself and well-aware of the consequences of not rising to his father’s expectations, a young Josh Anderson had signed up for a career in the state police force. It was one of the few things he’d done where his father had actually voiced his approval and shown some level of pride in his young offspring which, at the time, seemed enough to make it all worthwhile.

Basic training had been easy enough and, determined to make the most of it, an eager Josh Anderson had risen up through the initial ranks at a rate that surprised everyone. Naively, he’d thought he made it on his own merits and had hoped that his father would be proud. It wasn’t until he’d begun to hear the waft of rumours among his peers and subsequently had those rumours confirmed by the man himself, that he understood that his promotions had been granted more as a favour to his father than as an acknowledgement of his own worth.

“Your old man may be retired but he still carries some influence,” he had gloated when Josh had asked him about it point blank. Then he’d slapped Josh amicably on the shoulder and said, “So stop your complaining and show some gratitude, son.”

It had taken this revelation to make Anderson see that he had been doing the job for the wrong reasons and the wrong person. It had been a distorted attempt to gain his father’s respect which he realised was never going to happen, rather than for his own satisfaction. He’d decided then and there that it would be different in the future. It wasn’t long after this that Anderson had what he’d considered then to be a fortuitous introduction to Sydney businessmen, Charlie Dellaqua and his brother, Sid Delaney, and he’d make good on his promise to himself.

As well as payback to his father, Anderson had justified his change of heart to himself using his disenchantment with the whole justice system. While he spent long hours chasing down suspects and working to the letter of the law for little more than a basic wage, he’d had to watch others who weren’t so meticulous about following the rules, accrue wealth he could only dream of. In the end, Dellaqua had made him an offer too good to refuse. _“If you can’t beat them, join them,” was the old adage that had run though his conscience at the time_. “ _It wasn’t like he was the first or only to cop to make the most of an opportunity.”_

This time, when he’d risen up the ranks and gained the respect of Dellaqua and those within his inner circle, Anderson could be sure it was on his own merits. Leading a double life hadn’t been easy though and at times he felt he was swimming well out of his depth. At times he had to draw on considerable acting skills and a self-confidence he didn’t always feel but, as with most things, these skills were honed with practice. The ample monetary rewards and the respect he felt he’d gained served as sufficient encouragement and reward. Of course, this could all disappear in the blink of a revengeful eye as could his very life if there was so much as a hint that he was being disloyal. It was the price you paid.

Anderson knew that his father, gone a couple of years now thanks to a series of strokes, would be turning in his grave if the things he’d done recently, under the guise of a police officer, had ever reached the man’s ears. The idea brought a wry grin to his face once more. As he’d said to himself many times before, “The old bastard could get fucked.”

Anderson slipped a hand into the back pocket of his jeans and took out Michael Collins’ phone and its SIM card that he’d gone to so much trouble to retrieve. With Dr Williams’ assistance, involuntary though it was, things had gone more smoothly than he could have wished for.

Once he’d driven past the suburbs to the more isolated location of the forensics facility, he’d had no qualms about using his gun. It had only taken two shots to get the job done. All those hours spent letting off steam at the firing range paid off for him yet again, each bullet doing its job with cold precision. With the first easy shot, he’d taken out the electronic locking mechanism on the gate at a side access to Forensic Investigations Co. so that it swung ajar and he could enter there rather than risking the increased chance of being seen at the main gate. With the second and more challenging shot, he’d shattered the security camera attached beneath an overhang that monitored the surrounding area.  

Confident that he was no longer being observed in this part of the facility, Anderson strode back to the car. In the stillness of the night, the loose stones scattered across the bitumen surface of the car park crunched loudly beneath the soles of his shoes. Even his breathing had seemed amplified.

He’d opened the passenger-side door of the hire car and rummaged through Chrissie’s handbag which he’d tossed there earlier. In his frustration at not finding what he was after but knew had to be there somewhere, he upended the bag, spilling its contents onto the seat then scoured hurriedly through the pile, discarding various items in his search….a packet of unopened tissues, a bottle of black nail polish, a brush, Chrissie’s wallet, a tube of lipstick and the pen and small notebook he’d written his phone number on earlier that night….he was privately bemused by the extraordinary amount of stuff it held. Having no luck, he’d been about to tear through the handbag once more when he noticed a zippered section on the side. He quickly opened it and ran his fingers blindly around the inside until they curled around a length of material and with a satisfied grin, he pulled out the object he needed, a lanyard with Dr Williams’ keycard attached to it. This would allow him to enter the facility without breaching any of the alarms.

Tucking the keycard securely into his hip pocket, Anderson had walked around to the boot of the car and popped it open. In the cramped space within lay the motionless figure of Bianca’s friend, Dr Chrissie Williams, her legs folded to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her bruised and bloodied face was resting against her knees. The shallow rise and fall of her chest was the only indication that she was alive.

 Anderson clamped his hand roughly around her upper arm and began hauling her unceremoniously from her confinement. To his surprise, she sprang to life kicking out with her feet and scratching at him with her nails, tearing a painful tract along his left cheek. However, her outburst was short-lived.  Her strength rapidly vanished and her vision blurred as she fluctuated in and out of consciousness.

“C’mon, Doc. Enough playing around. We’ve got work to do,” he said with an oddly-amused calm as he easily held her in check.

Conscious but groggy, Chrissie was made to stand up but her knees immediately buckled beneath her. Anderson dragged her back to her feet and leaned her up against the car as he allowed her another minute or two to get some fresh air into her lungs. She was no use to him without her wits about her.

Once she was capable of walking, they made their way through the open gate to the side entrance, Anderson maintaining a firm grip on Chrissie’s arm and sticking to the shadows as a precaution. At the side door to the building, the one used by the employees, he tugged the lanyard from his pocket and waved the keycard over the sensor panel but there was no reaction.

“Your turn, Doc,” he demanded as he pushed Chrissie towards the keypad.

She gave her head a cautious shake in an attempt to clear away the fog that shrouded her brain. Anderson hurried her along with a prod in the back.

Chrissie slowly pressed her right thumb against the scanning pad then stepped back slightly to allow the door to open. Nothing.

“It’s timed out,” she muttered through lips that were split and patched with dry blood from where Anderson had punched her before bundling her into the boot of the car.

Anxious to be inside and out of sight, he pushed her to one side and once again waved the card over the sensor panel. He then grabbed Chrissie’s right hand and forced her thumb onto the scanner pad. This time there was a sharp ‘click’ as the biometric lock released. It was followed by an almost silent swoosh as the steel door glided open. Once they had passed through into the building, it whispered shut behind them.

Inside, their nostrils were immediately hit with the heady smell of the antiseptic used to keep everything, including the epoxy-sealed floors, the walls and benches, spotlessly clean. The hallway was also several degrees cooler and far less humid than sticky air outside.

From here, it had been a simple process of having the good doctor lead him down a floor to the cave-like space where evidence was stored away until required.  The task of tracking down exactly where in the room the phone was locked away was made easy by the efficient and exacting records kept by the company. After bringing the computer to life, it had taken only a few strokes of the keyboard and one or two clicks of the mouse to find the precise location of Michael Collins’ phone.

Chrissie had reluctantly shown him to an enormous system of sliding storage units. She pressed a short series of buttons on the panel attached to a nearby wall and suddenly, like large, metal monsters the units began to move and separate of their own accord, splitting apart to reveal the section they needed to retrieve the ‘buried treasure’. It was an easy enough task to use the code the computer had given them to find the correct drawer and remove the items he had come for.

With the phone and its SIM card safely in his possession, Anderson needed to do one last but equally vital thing. He had Chrissie wipe from the computer’s system, including any backup, all the data that had been obtained from the phone by the forensic technologists. By the time they left, as far as he could tell, there was no evidence remaining that told of the phone having ever existed.

 _Sergeant Grieve was wetting herself with anticipation when she was told that Collins’ phone had been found. She was convinced it would be the key piece of evidence they were looking for and that was probably true. Now the smug bitch was back to square one_. It was a thought that had brought him a great deal of satisfaction as he walked an angry but co-operative Chrissie back to the car.

He’d been under no obligation to treat his captive with too much care now that she’d served her purpose and had considered that perhaps he should get what had to be done, out of the way. An obvious option had been to spend one more bullet and then set the car alight with the body inside, leaving no evidence that could be traced back to him, however, that would leave him stranded in a place where there was little to no chance of finding a vehicle close-by to appropriate.

Anderson also recognised that for these last few hours, he’d been running on nothing more than sheer adrenaline. He needed to rest then think things through more thoroughly. There was no point risking carelessness now that he’d come this far. He would secure her away for the night and devise a more comprehensive plan when he had rested and his head was clear.

Spurred on by that thought, he had bundled Chrissie back into the boot of the car once more. She had initially objected but in her weakened state she had succumbed to his force with little more than a whimper. Her head was reeling and a constant feeling of nausea curdled in her stomach. Best to save her strength, she thought, until a feasible opportunity arose.

The feel of the phone in his pocket afforded SC Anderson considerable relief as he drove towards the mountains. He’d turned on the radio, relaxed more into his seat and prepared to enjoy the drive like a man who’d had a significant weight lifted from shoulders.

_oooOooo_

Now, as he stood by the dam, Anderson flipped the phone over in the palm of his hand, inserted a fingernail into the small crack and removed the battery…..it was probably an unnecessary precaution but it wouldn’t hurt to be careful. He then set his sights on the middle of the dam where it was deepest and flung the phone, battery and the SIM card, one at a time, into the water. They would soon settle into the silt, never to be seen again.

Satisfied that the phone itself and the evidence it once held could no longer incriminate him, Anderson turned and strode back towards the house where he’d left his handgun so he could deal with the final part of his problem. Once Dr Williams was out of the game, there would be no one to implicate him in any crime.

_oooOooo_

It was an integral part of Bianca’s job to run through every possible scenario in a case, no matter how unpalatable it was, and in this particular case involving the sudden disappearance of her friend, Dr Christine Williams, she wasn’t liking the picture that was emerging and if, as the evidence seemed to suggest, Dr Williams was being held against her will, possibly by a police officer…. a member of her own team, no less…. every hour that went by without a breakthrough made it less likely that she would be found alive.

With an ease that only came with years of practice, Bianca clamped down on her emotions so she could carry out her job effectively although, it was made more difficult by the personal connection. She felt and an unfamiliar urge to panic and struggled with a sense of guilt that overwhelm her. She should have listened to her gut instinct and kept a sharper eye on Senior Constable Anderson. There must have been signs that he was up to something but she’d missed them or overlooked them. His discomfort when they interviewed Sid Delaney began to make sense as did the tête à tête they appeared to be having when she was on the phone to Janet and they thought she wouldn’t notice; his reaction when Chrissie called and said that Collins’ mobile phone had been found could also be explained if he was involved in Michael Collins’ shady dealings. Why would he take Chrissie if it wasn’t tied in somehow with the rest of the case they had been working on? Bianca was certain there was more to it than his merely being attracted to her friend. Now that she thought to put Anderson in the picture with the other case they were working, it struck her that he also had ready access to the drugs seized in the haul. These were all clues she’d missed _. Did he have contact with Michael Collins? What exactly was his involvement, if any, in Collins’ death? Who was he working for or with?_ _How many other crimes had he committed?_ These and several other questions whizzed through her mind as she admonished herself severely for being so blinkered. If Anderson had been partnered with any other member of her team she would have ripped them a ‘new one’ by now… albeit in the privacy of her office and in her professional but no less formidable manner… for being so unobservant, so careless, so damn stupid. She’d make up for her mistakes by finding Chrissie and ensuring that if Anderson was involved he would feel the full weight of the law.

She also forced aside the emotions that Janet’s announcement earlier that morning had stirred. Emotions she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Anger? Disappointment? Frustration? Sadness? Perhaps a mixture of all of these. Right now, however, she couldn’t afford the time nor the headspace to deal with this. She needed to have her wits about her. She needed to find her friend and she needed her to be alive.

Bianca stood rather than sat at the head of the table in the conference room, the full attention of those members of her team who were currently present at such an early hour were focussed on her as she went about the process of collaborating the information they had gleaned so far. Behind her was a mobile whiteboard and affixed to it was a recent photo of Dr Williams as well as a photo of the hire car that the tech people had taken from Rose’s phone. For the enlargement, they had inset a close-up of the registration plate in the bottom corner. There was also a photo of Senior Constable Josh Anderson, the last person known to have seen Chrissie. SC Anderson had been incommunicado since the disappearance of the forensic scientist which, to Bianca’s way of thinking, was more than just a coincidence.

Projected onto another fixed, interactive whiteboard was a map of Sydney and outlying areas. Marked with a red circle were the locations Dr Williams was known to have been that day including the Forensic Investigation facility, her apartment and Odie’s Restaurant down at The Rocks. Also marked with a circle was the location of Rose Delaney’s apartment. Partners were always likely suspects and although Bianca very much doubted Rose was involved in any way, it would be unprofessional to rule her out totally at this stage. Possible routes Chrissie might have taken to each place were also highlighted.

“We know that Dr Williams arrived at the restaurant just after 7pm.” Bianca moved to the screen and pointed out the location of Odie’s. “She asked one of the waiting staff if they’d seen Rose and when they said they hadn’t she asked to be seated.” Shuffling through a file she had on the desk, Bianca found a photo of Rose Delaney and attached it to the board next to the one of Chrissie. “However, Rose Delaney didn’t show up because at 6pm she had received a phone call from someone claiming to work with Dr Williams who said they were calling on her behalf to let Rose know that she wouldn’t be able to make their date as she’d had to attend an urgent job. I’ve since confirmed with Forensic Investigations that there was no such call out for Dr Williams. Alex, do we have anything back yet on that phone call Rose received?”

All eyes turned to the young constable sitting nearest to Bianca.

“Sorry, Sergeant,” Alex said as she conferred with the brief report that had been sent to her tablet, “the call was made from a pre-paid phone….a ‘burner’, registered to a false identity. There’s no way of finding the number the call was made from so there’s no way of tracking it…. it’s untraceable.”

Although it was what they had all had come to expect, their frustration was obvious from the muted grumbles and forlorn expressions around the table.  It seemed they couldn’t cop so much as a single break in this entanglement of clues and cases. Each time, a scrap of evidence would unfold to lift their hopes only to quickly dash them away again as it led to nothing but a dead end or raised more questions than answers.

 “Right. Thanks, Alex,” Bianca replied, trying not to sound too disappointed as she carried on. “We also know that Dr Williams was joined at the restaurant by SC Josh Anderson shortly after she had been shown to a table…. about 7:20pm. Dr Williams finished her one drink then left the restaurant, heading in the direction of the city.”

Beneath the photograph of Chrissie, Bianca attached a grainy still taken from the CCTV footage in the area. It showed Chrissie walking away from the restaurant and had a time stamp of 19:39.

“Anderson left three minutes later and walked off in the same direction.”

A second photo from the same footage showed Anderson following the same route and stamped 19:42 was added to the board.

“At 19:52, I received a phone call from Dr Williams saying that she thought she knew who it was who ran Francis Wilkie off the road but before she could name names the call was disconnected and we haven’t been able to trace it since which would indicate that it is no longer functioning.”

In a last-ditch attempt to convince herself that maybe Anderson wasn’t responsible for taking her friend, Bianca asked, “Has anyone been able to make contact with SC Anderson?”

In response, there was a united shaking of heads and mutterings in the negative.

“Anybody?” she repeated.

“I’ve tried his mobile several times,” piped up Constable Andrew Chapman who was probably the one team member Anderson confided in to any degree, “but he hasn’t answered although it’s not unusual for him to switch his phone off when he’s on his RDOs… I know that strictly speaking, we’re not supposed to but, you know Josh, he’s not a stickler for protocol.”

“What kind of fu… moron turns his phone off when we’re in the middle of a case?” The eruption came from SC Driscoll. She wasn’t usually prone to such outbursts but she’d heard the rumours about Anderson’s promotions and the family connections. Having seen him in action, she was even less impressed thus drawing her own conclusions as to the amount of truth that lay in those rumours. She also recalled how hard she’d had to work to earn her own rank and the respect of both her male counterparts and her superiors. As a result, she couldn’t supress a certain amount of resentment towards those such as Anderson who had it handed to them on a patriarchal plate. “Sorry, Sergeant,” she added hurriedly, embarrassed by her uncharacteristic explosion.

“The local ‘uniforms’ are saying that his car is still at his flat but there’s no one home,” Constable Murray Ludgate chimed in, quickly drawing the attention away from his partner’s outburst.

“He might have gone away for a couple of days with some mates,” Chapman suggested. He was uncomfortable with the idea that one of their own team might be responsible for this and perhaps other crimes. “Or perhaps Dr Williams succumbed to his charms and went off somewhere with him of her own accord.”

Bianca nailed the young constable with a steely stare. “I can guarantee you, Andrew, Dr Williams did not go anywhere with Josh Anderson willingly. If she’s with him, it isn’t by choice.”

Bianca had been about to continue on with proceedings when one more member of her team all but burst into the room.

“I’m assuming there’s a reason for such a grand entrance,” Bianca said, addressing the late comer, Constable Derek Mills.

Realising the disruption he’d caused, he answered rather cautiously.

“I think you’ll find this interesting, Sergeant Grieve.”

Bianca nodded for him to go on.

 “Last night I called the security company used by the Forensic Investigations Company. I asked them when they’d last checked the place and it turned out that a car had just been out there and reported that everything was as it should be.” Mills took a deep breath. He’d obviously used the stairs rather than the elevator and was a little out of shape. “They assured me that there would be a second check later in the night and that they would contact me if there were any problems…We didn’t hear back from them but Harris insisted on calling them back this morning …. she had a ‘feeling’ about it…. Turns out, there was no second check…the security worker fell ill and had to go home and wasn’t replaced….so we took a drive out to the facility….”

Mills paused for a moment. Bianca wasn’t sure if it was to catch his breath again or for dramatic effect.

“The locking mechanism on the side gate had been busted open…most likely with a firearm… as well as the CCTV camera that monitored that area….”

“You mean someone has broken in?” Bianca asked just to clarify that she had the facts straight.

Mills nodded.

“We cordoned off the area and called it in…a forensic team is working the area now and Constable Harris is still at the scene….but we found this in the car park near the side gate.”

Mills flicked through several screens on his phone while he spoke then, finding the one he wanted, he handed it to Bianca.

“A small notebook with a phone number.”

“I ran the number through the system and, you’ll never guess whose it is…”

“SC Anderson.”

“Right,” Mills replied, momentarily disappointed that his boss had stolen his thunder.

“I recognised it from my own contacts list,” she explained, “I also recognise the notebook… Dr Williams has always carried one of those on her for as long as I’ve known her.”

“Forensics were able to lift some nice prints from it.”

Bianca was silently considering the implications of this new evidence when Foster interrupted.

“Excuse me, Sergeant Grieve, do you mind if I duck out for a minute. I have to call the hire car company. I couldn’t get through to them last night but the recorded message said that the office opened at 6:30am and it’s almost that now…”

“Of course, Alex,” Bianca replied distractedly. She then returned her attention back to Mills as Alex left the room. “Derek, can you have them check that Michael Collins’ phone remains safely stored at the facility although I have my doubts and have them send me any information that was retrieved from it as a matter of urgency?”

Without replying, Mills too went off to do the job asked of him.

After establishing with the remaining team members that there was no more fresh information forthcoming, Bianca surmised aloud, “I think we have to go with the theory that Dr Williams is being held by someone…the main suspect being SC Josh Anderson. It appears she may have been abducted for the purpose of providing entry to the forensics building and the computer system. Although we haven’t had a report back yet to say anything has been stolen or tampered with, I’m going to make an educated guess and say that the aim of the break-in was to retrieve the mobile phone of Michael Collins and to delete any information that may have been retrieved from it.”

There were nods and mutterings of agreeance from the officers still in the room.

Bianca posed the question, “If it is Anderson and let’s assume he has Dr Williams with him, where would he take her?”

The silence was discouragingly deafening.

 “Where would he go? Has anyone heard him talk about a special place he liked to visit? Does he own any properties?” Bianca prompted but nobody knew much about their SC Anderson. It was time to find out some things about their main suspect…. their only viable suspect.

She assigned SC Driscoll and her partner, Constable Murray Ludgate, the task of tracking down and speaking to Anderson’s mother with strict instructions to find out any possible locations he might be but without raising her suspicions or concerns. Bianca didn’t want the woman, inadvertently or otherwise, tipping off her son that he was on their radar.

Chapman was tasked with the finding out if Anderson owned or shared any properties which might provide him somewhere to hole up. He was also made responsible for applying for a warrant to search Anderson’s flat for clues as to his whereabouts and any other information that might tell of illegitimate activities he may be involved in.

Of course, the task of finding her friend would be made much simpler if Alex came back from her call to the hire car company with the news that Chrissie’s car was fitted with a GPS tracking system and that they had been able to locate it because, if Anderson hadn’t taken his car, chances were that he was driving Chrissie’s hire car but Bianca wasn’t going to pin her hopes solely to this bit of luck coming to fruition.

While Bianca gathered together the few items she’d brought into the meeting, she tried to fit the new pieces into the puzzle. She was certain they would find Collins’ phone missing from the facility which was annoying but not an essential piece of evidence if the information had already been taken from the phone and saved on the computer system, however, she was also convinced that Anderson had used Chrissie to gain entry to the building and to locate and delete the data. Being personally involved in the development of the software used at the facility, Chrissie would be able to find the information very quickly whereas Anderson would have quite conceivably been left fumbling his way through the labyrinth of code for hours searching for the files he wished to delete. _Perhaps Chrissie had left a little something behind for her to find, Bianca thought hopefully_. She certainly had the expertise to make it look like she had deleted all the files without having necessarily done so.

As Bianca left the conference room and made a bee-line for her office, eager to check her emails…. maybe Chrissie had had an opportunity to leave her a message… she heard a voice call her name. She looked towards it and in that instant, was greeted with a sight and sound that made her heart lurch with a myriad of conflicting emotions.

“Janet, what are you doing here?”

_oooOooo_

_How does life manage to be so easily turned on its head_ , _Janet had wondered as she’d listened to the clatter of keys as they were tossed onto the sidetable in the hallway_ , _soon followed by the thud of the door closing. It was a departure that had a sense of finality to it._

It had only been the night before that she’d presented Bianca with those keys to her house as a symbolic gesture of her willingness to take the next step. Now, they lay abandoned along with their relationship, Janet feared.

She had fully intended, at some stage, to discuss with Bianca the prospect of going to Fiji to work, just not right at that very moment. Had she blown it?

It had only been a matter of a week ago that Tony had first called her into his office and spoken to her about the opportunity. His contract as head of the DPP was nearing the end of its shelf life and he was resigned to the fact that it would not be renewed and he wasn’t one hundred percent certain he cared. His ego told him he could go another round in the ring but the stress of the job had aged him beyond his years. If he was honest with himself, he looked forward to a more layback life, a life which involved much less anxiety and with less responsibility resting on his shoulders. It was time to pass the baton on to a younger, less jaded person.

He’d always taken it for granted that his Chief Prosecutor would fill his shoes when he left as she was head and shoulders above anyone else who might apply but he’d noticed of late that Janet showed signs of being less than enthusiastic about her job and the law in general. That wasn’t to say she had underperformed in any way but he could see that her usual spark was missing. He’d come to the conclusion that perhaps she was in need of a change, a change he was capable of offering her.    

 As part of Australia’s role as a responsible member of the international community, experienced prosecutors were regularly sent to train others in emerging countries under the banner of the United Nations. Maybe a change of scenery and duties was what Janet needed.

 On hearing the offer, her initial reaction had been to accept it there and then but she wasn’t the only one to be affected by this decision so she’d told Tony she would think about it and get back to him, just as he’d expected. She wasn’t one to do things on a whim.

Coming back to the DPP…to the same job and the same routine…after what had happened six months ago had left her feeling like she was treading water, dissatisfied with where her career was headed. She craved new challenges, challenges that would take her well away from the job that had inadvertently lead to the death her partner and had recently put her children in mortal danger.

 As if to reflect her tedium, her first cases back had been less than the resounding-legal-triumphs that both she and those of the legal community expected of her and now it appeared that her latest case, the Bradshaw case, was going to peter out altogether to become a total non-event.

Having kept the job proposal strictly between herself and Tony, Janet hadn’t been expecting Bianca’s questions about Fiji but she should have known that the woman’s natural curiosity and ability to sense when things weren’t quite as they should be would lead her to ask.

With everything that was happening with the Bradshaw case, she hadn’t had a chance to fully deliberate the fine details that a change of job and location would involve. She _did_ know that leaving Bianca behind would be difficult. She’d miss having someone who understood the way she worked and having her there to bounce ideas off. She’d also miss the casual conversations they often had over dinner or as they entwined themselves together comfortably on the sofa in the evenings with a glass of wine. Apart from her children, Bianca was virtually the only person who could make her laugh which was something she needed to do far more often and, other than Tony, there was no one else who knew her so well…her good side and the not so good… or had so much patience with her. Of course, she would also miss the physical side of their relationship.

Janet had to admit to feeling attracted to Bianca and conjuring up sexual fantasies that involved the very attractive police sergeant long before anything had actually happened. She had always imagined her as a generous lover and the reality of it had been far from a disappointment. Bianca also demonstrated skills that Janet _hadn’t_ imagined and which continually surprised her in the most pleasurable of ways.

Two years would go by quickly, she thought, and in the meantime, they could skype, Bianca could fly over for a holiday or maybe she could take some extended leave and stay awhile. If they were both willing to try, surely they could make it work.

Most importantly, Janet had to take into consideration the welfare of her children. She’d wanted time to carefully weigh up each pro and con before talking it through, presenting her arguments and making that final decision. As she had said to Bianca in defending her actions, what was best for her family was always going to have the strongest sway in her choice.

Such a challenge to her actions had brought out Janet’s obstinate streak but Bianca’s response of an unsettlingly silent departure had left her momentarily dazed and confused. Once more her poor grasp on the ‘give and take’ involved in personal relationships had been her undoing.

Rather than dwell on it for too long, however, Janet turned her thoughts to problems she was more adept at solving, those arising from the Bradshaw case. While the case she was pushing as the prosecutor was feasible, should the defence team catch on to the new information that had been uncovered and which the police would be obliged to share with them, they would have a field day presenting other scenarios that were equally likely thus creating the necessary doubt within the jury’s collective mind. 

Although Janet hated to lose, winning was not at any cost. Unlike several of her colleagues in the profession, seeing justice served was always her priority. She didn’t consider prosecuting the wrong people for the sake of a win as any sort of victory.

Some of the events that tied her case to other recently-exposed criminal activities had been nigglingly relentlessly at her subconscious. _Why did Francis Wilkie pay a visit to Margaret Delaney? Was it a mere coincidence that only an hour or so after this visit, Wilkie was deliberately run off the road and over a mountainside…. Murdered… with $25 000 in his possession?_ _Had Mrs Delany given him the money as some sort of payment?_ All this time, assumptions were that Sid Delaney may be involved in Lance Bradshaw’s death. No one had thought to look more closely at his wife or consider the idea that perhaps she had something to do with it.

The other coincidence that wouldn’t leave her was the observation Chrissie had made when she told Janet that she was almost certain Margaret Delaney and Denise Bradshaw were more than friends. Janet wasn’t sure where this train of thought was taking her but it felt right. She had that peculiar feeling… a prickle on her skin…a quickening of her pulse…. that told her she was on the verge of something and just needed to keep digging. Maybe the CCTV footage of the meeting between Wilkie and Margaret Delaney on the day of the party would enlighten her further.

Janet had been going to wait until she’d dropped the children at kindy before making her way over to the AFP building and asking Bianca if she could view the CCTV footage which they’d confiscated from Delaney’s house. Hopefully their professional relationship was still fully intact even if their personal one seemed to be in tatters. However, with more than an hour before the children would even be awake, Janet was restless. Eventually, she resorted to phoning Jade, her go-to babysitter when her mother wasn’t available, and asking her to come over to mind the children so she could make an early start to her day.

Fortunately, the woman was a habitually early riser, often up with the sun and routinely out jogging a mere ten kilometres so Janet’s call to duty had not been an inconvenience.

She also put through a call to Andy’s replacement on the State force while he was on leave, Senior Sergeant Terry Renner. As succinctly as she could, Janet explained the whys and wherefores of what she was thinking, hoping it didn’t sound too far-fetched, before reaching the main point of her call. She wanted Renner to go through the bank accounts of Margaret Delaney, looking for the withdrawal of any suspiciously large amounts or any irregular activity. Janet had been prepared to argue her case if he had refused but, much to her relief, Renner was open to her thoughts and, even more impressively, had promised to put someone on it as soon as possible.

By the time Janet had showered, flung on her navy trousers, red blouse and navy shoes and applied a light layer of make-up, Jade was knocking on the door.  

When asked about her need to get started at such an early hour, more out of politeness than genuine curiosity, Janet gave the babysitter a suitably vague explanation about work then exited in smart fashion before she could be questioned any further. Although the girl was wonderful with the twins and very responsible, she hadn’t yet worked out that, for the most part, Janet was not able to freely discuss her work.

As Janet made her way down the hall towards the door, her eyes flitted for a second over the set of rejected keys lying on the sidetable. _Would Bianca even want to listen to her theory?_

Even at this early hour of the morning, the tentacles of traffic on the roads stretched out in all directions. As Janet made her stop/start run through inner-city Sydney, she trialled a number of possible scripts in her head for when it came to asking Bianca if she could view the CCTV footage. She’d keep the tone strictly professional and she was confident that Bianca would do the same. There was no need for their personal lives to spill over into work, particularly on such a problematic case. She was aware that if Chrissie was still missing, Bianca may not want to devote any time or effort to other matters in which case she would suggest that she might point her in the right direction of someone who could help.

As the traffic light became green, Janet turned left into a small side street and then a sharp left again, down into the underground carpark of the DPP building where she pulled into her assigned parking space. In the elevator, she pressed the button for the ground floor instead of the usual third floor where her office was located and as the doors opened she headed for the entrance and back out onto the street. Her destination was only a short walk away.

At the familiar beep of the ‘Walk’ signal, Janet crossed the road, worked her way between the bollards and entered the glass doors of the AFP building, all under the close scrutiny of several fully-armed members of the force. She felt an uncharacteristic jolt of nerves as she approached the reception desk. Bianca was only one floor away. _How would she react to seeing her?_

After an identification check, a full body pat down and a comprehensive search of her handbag…. reputation stood for nothing here when it came to security… she was issued with a visitor’s tag and allowed to proceed to the bank of elevators. She pressed the button for the second floor.

As she entered Bianca’s office, perhaps a little less confidently than usual, Janet spotted the familiar suit and purposeful stride of the person she was after and heard a voice call out Bianca’s name. She was surprised to find it was her own voice.

_oooOooo_

“I need to talk to you,” Janet said in reply to Bianca’s query.

“Really? Now? We still haven’t found Chrissie and we have no idea where she might be other than in danger so I’m just a little bit busy at the moment, Janet,” Bianca said impatiently as she continued to stride towards her office.

Janet followed.

“It’s about the Bradshaw case….and the other cases, possibly. I have a theory,” Janet explained.

Bianca looked at her with a dubious expression as she sat down at her desk and brought her computer out of its hibernation.

“I think we’ve been focussing on the wrong people…person…” Janet persisted, “I think we need to take a look at Margaret Delaney rather than Sid Delaney, at least for the murder of Lance Bradshaw.”

“Why’s that?” Bianca couldn’t contain her interest.

“I’m not sure exactly…. It’s a feeling I have more than anything. If I could look at the CCTV footage, it might make things clearer.”

Bianca had been about to check her emails to see if Chrissie had messaged her in any way but it was a long shot so she reluctantly put that task aside for a moment and went into her files where she had stored the relevant footage. She chided herself as she did so. She had previously allocated the task of reviewing the footage to SC Anderson rather than doing it herself. If she’d gone with her gut instinct about the man, her friend wouldn’t be in harm’s way and it was why, given that same basis, she was loath to dismiss Janet’s request.

“All the footage from the cameras at the entrance to Delaney’s house has been wiped….it was as though he knew we were coming and what we were after….”

“A tip off?”

Bianca nodded. “My bet is that Anderson called him just before I picked him up. However, Delaney either didn’t have time or didn’t think to wipe the vision from the camera we wanted…it’s all here.”

“Makes you wonder what was on the other footage that he didn’t want us to see.”

Before they knew it, they had fallen back comfortably into their easy teamwork.

Bianca clicked onto the file and progressed the footage forward to the section they wanted to peruse. Despite her mind’s preoccupation with finding her friend, Bianca couldn’t help the involuntary stirrings she felt with Janet so close, her arm resting along the back of her chair as she stood behind her and leaned forward to concentrate on the screen, the brush of the strands of blond hair that fell across her face, the flurry of her breath, warm and gentle against her cheek, as she spoke.

They both watched intently as the counter on the bottom right-hand side of the screen ticked off the seconds. At 14:03:27, they saw Francis Wilkie waiting in the side garden. He had just put his phone in his shirt pocket. By 14:10:55 Margaret Delaney had joined him there just as Chrissie had described seeing from Rose’s bedroom balcony.

Their conversation seemed to start off amicably enough but in less than a minute, things became heated and it was clear from the enraged expressions and the wild hand gestures that they were arguing. By 14:12:03, tempers had eased off to a simmer and Margaret Delaney turned and walked towards the house again. It was at this point that Chrissie must have headed back down the stairs as she hadn’t seen Margaret Delaney re-emerge in the garden and handed Francis Wilkie a bulky envelope. Once he had taken the parcel, he seemed satisfied and turned to leave. It was as he walked from the garden that Chrissie’s attention was drawn to his limp. She then noticed his solid build and red, cropped hair and made the connection which led her to her decision to follow him.

“Hold it there,” Janet said suddenly as she pointed at the screen. “Go back to where she hands him the envelope.”

Bianca did as she was instructed.

“There.”

 “I think we can assume that’s the envelope with the twenty-five thousand in it,” Bianca said as she paused the action.

“Can we zoom in?”

“Sure.”

“Look. There’s something else on top of the envelope. Under her thumb.”

The section of the video that showed the envelope exchanging hands now loomed large on the screen. They looked at it intently, each woman subtly aware of the nearness of the other.

“It’s a key,” Janet finally said, “it looks like a door key.”

Bianca homed in even closer on the object.

“I think you’re right… but to what door and why would she give Wilkie a key?”

“I don’t know.”

With the quick slide and click of the mouse and tap of keys, Bianca opened up another file that contained a spreadsheet and quickly skimmed through the information it contained.

“This shows all the items forensics found,” Bianca explained, “and they crawled all over the scene like ants. There’s no key listed or any phone for that matter and yet we know Wilkie had both. If those things were there, they would have found them….. Whoever the person was Chrissie saw go down that mountainside… and we think that person is SC Anderson… it’s possible they have Wilkie’s phone and the key.” Bianca was thinking aloud as much as she was speaking to Janet.

“Why didn’t he take the money as well?”

“The money was hidden away….The phone and the key were most likely on Wilkie’s body or nearby in plain sight.”

Bianca went through the relevant footage one more time, pausing and taking screenshots at significant places which she then sent to the printer.

“I think I need to go and speak to Mrs Delaney and find out what the key is for and why she’s giving Francis Wilkie twenty-five thousand dollars,” she said as she finished up.

Before Bianca closed the screen on her computer, she had one more important task to do. She went into her emails. In amongst the most recent ones was an email from Forensic Investigations. The time on the email read 9:35pm. Bianca held her breath as she opened it and then released it in a gush of relief as she recognised what was displayed. It was the list of numbers called from Michael Collins’ phone as well as a contact list which was made up only of initials, each one presumably representing the name of ‘business associates’ or clients. She immediately forwarded the list to Alex Foster’s computer before closing the screen, standing and grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair as well as her car keys and bag from her desk drawer. Just as she prepared to leave, the phone on her desk rang. She noted the extension number. It was Superintendent Nicholls _. Was he calling to update her on her application for promotion or to chew her out about Anderson?_   Either way, he could wait. She left the phone to ring out as she marched purposefully from her office with Janet hot on her heels.

On her way out, Bianca stopped off at the desk where Constable Foster was stationed. Alex was on a call so, while she waited for her to finish, Bianca went to the photocopier and plucked her photos from the tray, checked their quality and tucked them in her folder.

Back at Alex’s desk she could tell from the expression on her constable’s face that the news wasn’t going to be good.

“I’m afraid we’re out of luck with the hire car, Sergeant,” Alex said dejectedly as she hung up, “that was Hertz and while all of their new fleet have the GPS tracking capability, Dr Williams’ car was one of the older fleet so there’s no way of knowing where it is?”

“Par for the course, so far,” Bianca muttered to herself but rather than get dragged down in the disappointment and aware that she had a new lead to follow and needed to do so quickly for Chrissie’s sake, she gave the constable further instructions, “Alex, I’ve forwarded you through an email. It’s the list of calls and contacts from Michael Collins’ phone we’ve been waiting for. I want you to go through all the numbers and find out who they belong to and if they’re active. See if you can match the numbers to the names in the contact list. Jan…she’d been going to include Janet but realised she was no longer beside her…. I’m going to pay Margaret Delaney a visit. I think she may literally have the key to where we can find Dr Williams. If anything else comes through on Anderson or Dr Williams, you’re to contact me immediately.”

“Right,” she answered distractedly as she was already opening her emails, ready for her next task.

Bianca left her to it as she strode to the elevator where she found Janet waiting for her and the lift doors opening. They both stepped in. Alone in this confined space, they were reminded of what had passed between them earlier that morning.  There were words each would have liked to have said to the other but instead, they both fixed their eyes on the steel doors ahead and remained silent as they made their descent.

To Bianca’s surprise, rather than stop at the ground floor, Janet continued on with her down to the carpark.

“Did you park here?” Bianca asked as they stepped from the lift, puzzled by the fact that Janet seemed to be heading in the same direction.

“No, my car’s back at the DPP,” Janet replied. Reading the questioning look on Bianca’s face, she added, “I’d like to come along and see what Margaret Delaney has to say if that’s alright.”

“Usually lawyers stay in the office, it’s us cops who go out and talk to people,” Bianca reminded her.

“Mmmm…I do things my way,” Janet said with what she hoped was a winning smile, “after all, it _was_ my idea.”

Rather than waste time arguing, Bianca relented. To be honest, she was glad of Janet’s company but she would be keeping that bit of information to herself.

“Okay…but you let me do the talking,” she said firmly but with the hint of a grin as she unlocked the car and opened her door.

“Of course,” Janet replied as she too opened her door, sat down and fastened her seatbelt.

_oooOooo_

It was only a short drive through the city to Delaney’s place and all the while, the two women made a point of confining the conversation to strictly work-related matters. Janet explained more fully her theory that perhaps it was Margaret Delaney behind the death of Lance Bradshaw rather than Sid Delaney, although she wasn’t able to give Bianca a clear motive other than to say that the thought Chrissie had planted in her head of Margaret and Denise being more than friends might play a part in it. Bianca was sceptical.

“It’s only hearsay… not much use to us.”

“But, if it’s true, you can see why Margaret Delaney may have wanted Lance Bradshaw out of the way…. Maybe she paid Wilke to kill him. Maybe Denise and Margaret are in this together.”

Bianca had to admit that much stranger things had motivated people to commit murder.

After some thought, Bianca asked, “But why the crazy outfit? Why go to all that trouble? Why not just kill him?”

It was an aspect of the crime Janet had no answer for at this stage. “I don’t know. Perhaps he’d changed into the clothes himself for whatever reason…Who knows what peculiar things people do in the privacy of their own homes?”

In turn, Bianca shared her thought that perhaps Anderson now has in his possession the key Margaret Delaney gave Wilkie and she was eager to know the address of the place it belonged to.

Like many of the streets in harbour-side Sydney, the street Delaney’s house was on was narrow and parking was at a premium. There was no choice other than to leave the car in the only available space at the end and walk the fifty metres uphill to the Delaney place.

As they approached, Janet spotted Denise Bradshaw standing behind a black Mercedes. The boot was open and Denise was loading a suitcase inside. Three more suitcases were beside her.

“Hello, Denise. Are you going away?” Janet said cheerfully as they reached the house.

The sudden sound of the unfamiliar voice saying her name startled the woman. She turned to see who it was.

“Oh, Ms King. It’s you,” she said, taking a deep breath and composing herself once more, “I didn’t recognise the voice.”

“We didn’t mean to creep up on you like that,” Janet said apologetically, “this is Sergeant Bianca Grieve of the Australian Federal Police. We’d like to speak to your friend, Mrs Delaney if she’s around.”

 “I’m sorry to hear about your father,” Bianca said, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand.

“Thank you, Sergeant. He’s been ill for a long time so in a way…..”

She was interrupted by a voice coming from the steep set of steps that led down to the house.

“Sweetheart, did you pack my ….” 

A tall, rather slender woman in knee-length, denim shorts, a white T-shirt and expensive-looking runners appeared at the top of the stairs. Her shoulder-length brown hair was tied back into a ponytail that poked through the space at the back of the navy-blue cap she wore.  Although she was probably in her late fifties, she looked incredibly fit. Both Janet and Bianca recognised her from the footage as Mrs Margaret Delaney. She stopped abruptly when she saw they had company.  “Oh, hello.”

“Margaret, this is Ms Janet King from the…..”

Janet helped her out. “The Department of Public Prosecutions.”

“And this is Sergeant Grieve from the Australian Federal Police.”

“Mrs Delaney?” Bianca asked as she reached out and shook the woman’s hand, although she already knew the answer.

“Yes, Sergeant…. What’s this about?” Mrs Delaney asked. She couldn’t hide the fact that she was a quite shaken by the presence of a lawyer and an AFP agent at her home which was by no means a sign of any sort of guilt as most people would have a similar reaction. 

“They want to talk to you,” Denise said a little incredulously.

“Are you going on a trip?” Bianca asked, as much a way of oiling the wheels of conversation as gleaning information.

Denise went to reply but the other woman cut her off almost immediately.

“Poor Denise has had a bit of a bad trot…. Her husband was killed in the most awful of circumstances several months ago as you probably know and her father recently passed away. I thought it would be good for her to escape for a few days….to get out of the city.”

Janet slipped Bianca a quick glance. Neither of them could believe so much luggage was required for a few days away.

“Before you leave, I was hoping to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind,” Bianca asked.

“I’m afraid we’re in a bit of a hurry, Sergeant,” Margaret replied. The anxious look that was exchanged between the two women did not go unnoticed. “We’ve got a long drive ahead of us and we’d like to get to where we’re going before dark as neither of us likes driving at night time.”

“This won’t take long,” Bianca said politely but insistently.

“And what is this in regard to?” Mrs Delaney’s voice had taken on a less congenial tone.

“It might be better if we do this inside.” Bianca looked around as if to suggest that neighbours may be peering out through their curtains watching them.

Not wanting her neighbours to draw their own conclusions as to what might be happening and realising that Sgt Grieve was not to be deterred, Margaret Delaney begrudgingly invited her visitors indoors. Janet and Bianca followed her down the stairs while Denise Bradshaw remained on the footpath struggling with the suitcases.

Once they were in the house, Mrs Delaney led them through to the same outdoor space where Bianca had first spoken with Sid Delaney. As they drew out a seat at the same table, Margaret offered them a tea or coffee which they both declined.

“How can I help you, Sgt Grieve?” Mrs Delaney asked as soon as they had settled.

“Last Sunday, you and your husband had a bit of a get-together here…”

“Yes. It was more my husband’s thing… His plans for a waterfront development had just been approved by council so he was celebrating.”

“Who was at this celebration?”

“It was mostly business associates of Sid’s… I only know them to say ‘hello’ to… There were a few friends, Denise…. one or two of the neighbours…Our daughter, Rose, was here with her partner, a Dr Chrissie Williams.”

The mention of Chrissie’s name brought a new sense of urgency to Bianca’s questioning. She opened her folder and removed one of the stills she’d printed out from the CCTV footage. It showed Francis Wilkie standing alone in the side garden. Bianca placed it on the table in front of Margaret Delaney.

“Do you know this man, Mrs Delaney?”

The woman looked closely at it for several seconds. Both Bianca and Janet recognised it as a play for time. _Was she going to tell them the truth straight up, Bianca wondered, or was she going to play games?_

“I believe that’s Frankie Wilkie,” she finally answered.

Bianca left a deliberate silence which Mrs Delaney obligingly filled.

“He works for my husband. A bit of a sad case really. Sid gave him a job because the guy was down on his luck at the time and he felt sorry for him.”.

“Was he invited to this party?”

“No…well, he might have been but I didn’t know about it which is not unusual… Sid doesn’t tell me everything which is how I prefer it… business bores me to tears.”

If she was guilty of anything, Janet had to admire the way the women kept her nerve.

Bianca placed the next photo out on the table. It was of the initial meeting in the garden. This time, Margaret Delaney did, for a fleeting moment, appear visibly rattled but she quickly regained her composure.

“What is it you and Mr Wilkie were discussing?”

“I don’t remember exactly…”

Bianca raised a questioning eyebrow as she placed the third photo down in front of her.

“Are you sure you don’t remember? It seems to have become quite heated.”

Recognising where the questions were coming from and where they were probably leading, the woman subsequently recalled that particular conversation.

“Ah, that’s right. Frankie had got himself into trouble again. He was addicted to gambling, you see…lost tens if not hundreds of thousands over the years. He’d got himself into debt with some nasty characters and he wanted me to loan him some money so he could pay them back and save his skin…”

“Did you give it to him?”

She nodded, seemingly embarrassed by her actions.

“How much did he want?”

Before Margaret Delaney could answer, Denise joined them. Janet couldn’t help but wonder if she’d managed to fit all four large suitcases in the boot of the car.

As Denise sat down in the seat beside her friend, she looked at the photos that lay on the table. Neither Janet or Bianca could tell whether she knew Wilkie or not from her expression.

Janet repeated Bianca’s question. “How much, Mrs Delaney?”

“Twenty-five thousand,” she replied in almost a whisper.

The photo of her handing the package to Wilkie was added to the set.

“Is this the envelope with money in it?”

Again, too embarrassed to answer, the woman merely nodded.

“You gave him twenty-five thousand dollars of our… your money? Why?” Denise Bradshaw exclaimed. It was clear she was only just putting the picture together.

“I’ll explain later,” Margaret said in an effort to keep the other woman from perhaps saying something she shouldn’t.

“I don’t understand why he came to you rather than your husband,” Janet threw in. Bianca flashed her a sideways glance to remind her that she was there simply to observe and listen.

“Probably because Sid had already bailed him out of trouble on several occasions and would kick him to the kerb if he asked again. He knew I’d have the money and was a soft touch for his sob story.”

Bianca placed the last of the photos from the CCTV footage on the table.

“You also gave Wilkie this key. What was it for?”

Margaret made a show of taking a close look at the photo before sitting back and answering.

“After he’d paid off his debt, he said he wanted to get out of town and lay low for a while so I gave him the key to my parents’ house. While my parents were alive, it was a working dairy farm up in the mountains but it’s empty now.  I told him he could stay there for a few weeks. No one else ever uses it. It’s too run down.”

“Can I have the address for this property, please?” Bianca asked, an increased urgency in her voice. A piece of the puzzle had dropped.

She pushed her notebook and a pen towards Margaret Delaney who took it and promptly wrote down the address. Beneath it, she drew a quick mud map.

“One last question,” Bianca said as she slid forward a photo of SC Josh Anderson. “Do either of you know this person?”

Both women contemplated the image for several long, painful seconds before Margaret Delaney spoke up. “He’s been to the house a couple of times and spoken to my husband but I’ve never met him.”

Denise Bradshaw merely shook her head as an indication that she knew nothing of this man.

Suddenly Bianca was on her feet, rapidly collecting up the photos and putting them back into her folder.

“Thank you, Mrs Delaney, Mrs Bradshaw, for your time. We won’t keep you any longer.”

Margaret Delaney rose to show them to the door but Bianca added, “We’ll see ourselves out if you like.” She then turned and made quick time towards the front door. Janet followed, having to increase her stride in order to keep up.

_oooOooo_

As they strode down the footpath towards the car, Janet asked, “Do you think your SC Anderson has Chrissie up at Margaret Delaney’s farm?”

“Chrissie rang me that night to tell me it was Anderson who killed Wilkie…he’s called Rose with a phony story and cancelled their date and he’s turned up instead … There was no key found on Francis Wilkie’s body or at the scene of his murder even though forensics did a thorough search. I’m betting he has it.”

“Did he know that Chrissie had id-ed him as the man there that day?”

“I don’t think so… He wanted her so he could have access to Michael Collin’s phone…. He’s followed her from the restaurant and caught up with her when she was calling to tell me… I think she had only just figured it out herself… He’s taken her to the forensics facility so she can get him in without immediately setting off alarms… The place was broken into late last night and her notebook was found in the carpark… My guess is that he’s taken Michael Collins’ phone and had Chrissie delete the information. You should have seen the look on his face, Janet, when he heard Chrissie tell me they’d found it in the wreck… he was shit scared. What he doesn’t know is that somehow Chrissie has managed to email the information to me and I can’t wait to see what Alex finds in those contacts…. From there, chances are he’s driven on up the mountain and he’s holed up at this property belonging to Margaret Delaney.” 

“How would he even know about the property?” Janet dared to ask.

“Anderson and Sid Delaney are better mates than Mrs Delaney knows or is letting on… They were having quite the cosy chat when we were there questioning Delaney. I was on the phone to you. They didn’t think I’d noticed.  Sid’s told Anderson about the farm, possibly even taken him there in the past,” Bianca deduced, “Maybe there’s things going on at the property that Margaret Delaney doesn’t even know about. It’s off the main road, kilometres from anyone or anywhere. It’s a perfect place to hide something or someone.”

“Are we going there now?”

“Yep.”

When they were within ten metres of the car, Bianca hit the button on the fob and unlocked it. For the last few metres they broke into what was almost a run. As soon as Bianca had opened the door, she tossed her folder onto the back seat and started the engine, patching through a call to her AFP office as she prepared to do a U-turn. Janet had barely shut her door than they were moving. 

_oooOooo_

The call was picked up by Constable Alex Foster.

Before Alex could utter anything more than ‘hello’, Bianca was issuing instructions.

“Alex, I want you to contact Springwood police station up in the Blue Mountains and have them send a couple of uniforms to check out a property for me. Have you got a pen handy?  I’ll give you the directions.”

“Go ahead, Sergeant,” Alex said as she opened Google Maps on her computer.

“It’s in Faulconbridge…. take the fourth turn left after the Faulconbridge Station heading west…”

“I’ve located it, Sergeant.” Alex then switched to Google Earth.

“It an abandoned farmhouse that used to be owned and worked by Margaret Delaney’s parents. The local ‘uniforms’ might know it. I’m heading there now but it’s almost an hour’s drive away. I need the officers there to check it out… to see what we might be dealing with.”

Bianca’s instructions were interrupted momentarily as she used her siren and flashing lights to cut a path through a section of slow-moving traffic then concentrated on manoeuvring along it.

“Alex…”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“Tell the Springwood cops to take an unmarked vehicle and that it’s imperative that they stay out of sight. We think Anderson might be there and it’s likely he has Dr Williams with him. Under no circumstances are they to approach the house or Anderson. They’re to proceed on foot as close as it’s safe to go and see if they can get a visual on Dr Williams’ red Camry and then get back to us ASAP. If Anderson or anyone tries to leave, they’re to follow at a discreet distance and call it in.”

At the next intersection Bianca once again employed the flashing lights and siren as she darted through a red traffic light. Janet closed her eyes and held on with a white-knuckled grip.

“Is there anything else, Sergeant?” Constable Foster asked.

“Let SC Driscoll know what’s happening. Tell her to have an Emergency Response Team ready to go at a moment’s notice…. And Alex, get back to me as soon as you hear anything.”

“Of course, Sergeant,” the constable replied but she was already speaking to dead air.

_oooOooo_

Janet had sat in the passenger seat of the police vehicle as they raced across the city, her body rigid with tension and her fingernails dug deep into the upholstery of the arm rest as she held on for dear life. Bianca’s assurances that she had completed the police driving course with flying colours and that she was following police protocols to the letter did little to alleviate her terror.

 Now they were on the A32, The Great Western Highway, winding their way up into the Blue Mountains. Much to Janet’s relief, the regular bends and narrowness of the road forced Bianca to drive in a more cautious manner and at a speed that didn’t have her life flashing before her eyes at every corner, although she couldn’t wipe from her mind the image of the wreckage of Wilkie’s car after it had plunged over the edge on this same road.

“Do you believe Margaret Delaney and Denise Bradshaw are only going away for a few days with all that luggage?” Janet said as she attempted to distract herself from the nausea that was rising in her stomach as they twisted and turned their way up the mountain.

“A few months more like it. Did you see the size of those suitcases?”

“I think they were involved in the murder of Lance Bradshaw. They could be heading off overseas and that’s the last we’ll see of them.”

“Janet, we’ve got nothing to hold them on at this stage. Legally, we can’t stop them.”

“There has to be some way of stopping them.” Janet’s frustration was beginning to get the better of her.

“What did you have in mind?” Bianca asked, her lips forming into a slight smile. It amused her to think that perhaps Janet was considering less-than-legal ways of preventing the women from leaving.

 With no answer to Bianca’s question….well, not one she wished to share with the police sergeant… the conversation petered out. They drove the next few kilometres with nothing but the sounds of the road for noise, each woman caught up in their own thoughts.

Initially, in her mind, Janet replayed their visit to Margaret Delaney and Denise Bradshaw, concentrating on the body language, the subtle play between the two women… the quick glances, the familiarity, the understanding…. rather than the words that were spoken. Yes, they could be just very good friends but, like Chrissie, Janet suspected there was more to it. Did they pay Francis Wilkie to get rid of Lance Bradshaw and if so, why kill him? Why not just divorce like everyone else? Janet suspected that as in most similar situations she came across, money would be at the root of this particular evil-doing.

From there, her thoughts drifted to her own relationship with the woman who was currently speeding them towards who knew what. It was obvious to Janet now that she should have discussed the possibility of moving to Fiji with Bianca or at least told her about it, however, it wasn’t that easy. After growing up staunchly independent and strong-willed, sharing any decision-making wasn’t a process that came naturally to her. It had taken years of persistent effort for Ash to convince Janet that she didn’t need to always shoulder the responsibility of deciding everything for them. Planning a family was probably one of the first major events in their lives together where Janet could say she had willingly let Ash take on most of the planning, even though it had eventually come down to Janet to carry the babies. Now Ash was gone and again she was left to make all the decisions on her own with not only her own future to consider but also that of the twins. Almost three years of this had seen her revert back to old habits and self-reliance. She had taken onboard the lessons Ash had taught her and she was certain it would take far less time for her to learn to adjust again but was it already too late?

Meanwhile, Bianca’s mind was firmly focussed on what may lie ahead and was   busily whirring through the gamut of actions that would need to be taken. She’d need backup and she’d need to keep a clear head, that much she knew. She couldn’t allow her emotions and the fact that it was her friend in trouble to cloud her judgement. Most of what would follow would depend on whether or not a hostage situation developed. She hoped like hell that it wouldn’t come to that.

As they reached the small town of Warrimoo, less that ten minutes from where they were headed and where the road straightened out considerably, Janet broke the silence.

“I know it’s probably not the right time or place… but I’d just want to say that I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…didn’t talk to you about the job offer in Fiji.”

“Without taking her eyes from the road, Bianca replied, “You’re right it isn’t the right time….”

Janet felt a flush of colour creep into her cheeks. _Would she ever get this stuff right?_

“But when this is all over,” Bianca added more gently, “we’ll talk. Okay?”

She turned to Janet long enough to flash her a lopsided smile and for a second, she placed her hand lightly on Janet’s thigh.

The moment was broken by the sound of the Bianca’s phone. It was Constable Foster calling to let her know that two of the local police officers had been to the property and confirmed the sighting of Dr Williams’ hire car parked beside the house. The make and model of the car checked out as did the registration number.

“The car’s there. We’ve found her,” Bianca said in an excited whisper before composing herself once again and giving Foster further instructions which included having SC Driscoll send the Response Team up immediately. She looked at the time. Nearly ten o’clock.  It would take them at least 45 minutes to arrive. She hoped the situation would hold out until then.

As she listened to the exchange, Janet was asking herself questions she didn’t dare voice. _“Was Chrissie actually there too or was it just SC Anderson?  Was Chrissie even alive?”_

_oooOooo_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

As they neared the point in the road where they would need to turn off, Bianca eased her foot off the accelerator. Just over the crest of the next hill, there was a vehicle parked by the side of the highway. It was one the trained eye could easily identify as an unmarked police car. Bianca pulled into the space in front of it, mowing down the long grass in the process, and was approached by one of the local officers. Alighting from the car, she immediately flashed her ID badge and introduced herself to the officer, a Senior Constable Dylan Jackson as it turns out. They then strolled, heads together in consultation, towards the rear of the vehicle, leaving Janet sitting in the passenger seat, her ears straining to hear what was being said.

Having grown up and worked in the Blue Mountains area for almost his entire life, Jackson was familiar with this particular property and confirmed that it had been more or less abandoned for several years with only the occasional comings and goings, usually someone squatting for a few days before moving on. As requested, Jackson and his partner, Jess Samuels, had checked the place out, proceeding on foot from where they were at the moment. They’d followed the track as far as practical before ducking into the cover of the thick bushes while they moved towards the house for better vision. It was from there that they had sighted the red Camry which was parked beside the house. 

"Constable Samuels is still there maintaining the surveillance," Jackson informed Bianca.

As if conjured up by the mention of her name, Jackson’s body radio came to life and the scratchy sound of Samuel’s voice came across the radio waves.

“You there, Jackson?”

“Roger, Jess. I’ve got Sergeant Grieve from the AFP with me. What’s the situation there?”

“There’s a male….Caucasian…walking up from the back of the property….  tall, about 185, dark hair, strong build…….”

Bianca didn’t need to hear anymore. She knew who it was. Hurrying to the boot of her car, she retrieved her shoulder holster and Glock 22 from the small, metal safe tucked away at the back.

“He’s wearing a white T-shirt, blue jeans and black runners,” Samuels continued, “and he looks to have a fresh wound on the left side of his face.”

_Whichever way it had turned out, she’d put up a fight,_ Bianca thought wryly as she also grabbed the two Kevlar flak jackets, one of which she immediately put on before donning her holster, the other she tossed onto the back seat. “What’s happening?” Janet asked, alert to the sudden flurry of action.

“It’s Anderson,” Bianca answered as she quickly brought the car’s engine to life and followed Jackson down the dirt track, “he’s in the house.”

The ruts and potholes in the track made it impossible to go any faster than a frustrating crawl until eventually both vehicles pulled over to the side. They were in danger of being spotted if they went any further. From this position, they had a glimpse of the work shed but couldn’t see the house.

“Stay in the car and keep your head down,” Bianca ordered in her most sergeant of voices as she got out of the car, “and put that on just in case.” She pointed to the Kevlar vest that lay on the back seat.

“Just in case what?” Janet had been about to ask but Bianca was already gone to join SC Jackson.

Janet didn’t like the idea of being left behind but she liked the idea of being shot at even less so she resigned herself to staying put. Instead, she watched as Bianca stood by the other vehicle, deep in conversation with SC Jackson for a moment before they both marched off purposefully further up the track where they disappeared into the cover of the scrubby trees.

The pair moved stealthily forward until they came to the last line of cover where they met up with Jackson’s partner, Constable Samuels.

Foregoing any formalities, Bianca asked the constable, “Where is he now?”

“He came up from the bottom of the property….. there’s a paddock and a dam down there, if I remember rightly…. and he’s gone inside the house through a rear door.”

Samuels handed Bianca the pair of binoculars she’d been using. Crouching down amid the branches, leaves, spider webs and several different varieties of insects that call the Australian bush ‘home’, Bianca pointed the binoculars through a gap in the undergrowth and scanned the property in order to get a feel for the layout of the place. She then focussed in on the house. Unfortunately, she could find no way to see inside.

Suddenly a figure appeared at the side of the house, near the car. It was Anderson. He must have come from the rear door. Now he was down on all fours, peering underneath the building. When he stood up again, Bianca could see that he had a shovel in one hand and what looked like a large piece of cloth in the other, a sheet or a curtain perhaps. As he walked back towards the dam, she also noticed his handgun tucked into the waistband at the back of his jeans.

“What’s he doing,” Bianca muttered mostly to herself.

“Looks like he’s planning to dig a hole…. bury something…wrap it in the sheet and bury it,” Jackson replied, stating the obvious.

Bianca looked at her watch anxiously. It would be another 35 minutes at the earliest before the Response Team arrived. Things were moving fast. She wasn’t sure she had that much time. It would help if she could see what he was up to.

Apart from where the track cut a path back out towards the highway, dense bushland surrounded the property, coming particularly close on the eastern side. Bianca was confident they could manoeuvre themselves closer to where Anderson was and not be seen.

“Samuels, you stay here. When the Emergency Response Team arrives, fill them in. Jackson and I are going to go around to see what he’s up to.”

Samuels nodded her understanding.

“Mind if I take these?” Bianca asked as she slung the binoculars around her neck. “Radio silence unless it’s an emergency,” she added.

With those last instructions, Bianca and Jackson, cautiously ducked and weaved their way through the native scrub to find a better observation point.

oooOooo

Already, Janet was feeling the first traces of boredom as she sat obediently in the car with no company and no way of knowing what was happening. She disliked playing the waiting game and, even more so, she disliked feeling left out. Perhaps, if she stayed hidden, she could take a quick look and then come straight back to the car. While she wrestled with the idea, she looked at her watch and was shocked to find she’d been there on her own for barely ten minutes. It had felt interminably longer.

She was startled from her plans by the sound of her phone ringing from within her handbag. As she pulled it out, she looked at the screen and saw that it was Tony calling her.

“ _Oh shit,_ ” she thought as she checked her watch once more. She was meant to be in court in less than an hour. He’d be in a lather wondering where she was.

“Hi, Tony,” she said, deliberately keeping her voice low but light.

Tony Gillies had indeed been wondering what had happened to his Chief Prosecutor and he wasn’t impressed when Janet had explained her whereabouts to him. She was due in court at 10:30 am with the Bradshaw case. What did she think she was doing gallivanting around the countryside as Sergeant Grieve’s ill-chosen sidekick when she had a case to present? He was even less impressed with the fact that by the time he’d hung up, Janet had managed to coerce him into standing in for her and asking the judge for an adjournment so that they could further investigate some new evidence.

Janet tossed her phone into her bag and flopped back in her seat. The temperature was increasing rapidly as the sun climbed across a sky that was now a palette of cloudless blue. It was going to be a summer scorcher. She could feel the beads of perspiration settling on her forehead and arms; damp patches were forming on her blouse where her back pressed against and stuck to the vinyl of the seat. She wound the window down in the hopes of a cooling breeze but the air was now still and soupy, lending no relief at all to the growing discomfort of the car. Along with the heat, the relentless, high-pitched chirping of cicadas rushed in from the surrounding bushland in waves that became so loud that it was almost impossible to hear yourself think. Ahead of her, Janet could see about 40 metres of dirt track before it veered off to the right, an obstacle course of corrugations, ruts and pot holes. At the end of her line of sight, she focussed in on the visible section of some sort of building, part of a large shed of some description, she decided.

As she stared at the shed, an idea began to form. All attention was focussed on Anderson up at the house. What if he had hidden Chrissie inside the shed? Hearing Bianca’s words echoing inside her head… “Stay in the car and keep your head down” …. Janet tried to ignore her thoughts but she wasn’t very adept at sitting around twiddling her thumbs.  The shed wasn’t that far away. She would be able to hide from sight in the bush for all but the last 15-20 metres. She could be there and back in under ten minutes, she calculated. No one would even know she had gone.

Without thinking it through anymore, Janet went to open her door only to have it blocked by the thin trunks of two trees. _Had Bianca parked the car like that intentionally, she wondered fleetingly_. There wasn’t enough space for her to squeeze out so, instead, she scrambled over to the other side, a tumble of arms and legs, and exited via the driver’s door instead. As an afterthought, she grabbed the Kevlar vest from the backseat and put it on before dashing into the scrub, going in the opposite direction to Bianca and SC Jackson.

It wasn’t until she had worked her way quite a distance into the bushland that she stopped to consider what dangers lay about her, in particular, the snakes, the spiders and her pet hate, the dreaded leeches. She’d never been a big fan of the bush. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. She looked back towards the car, then towards her destination and decided that, having made it this far, she should keep going on but all her senses were now on high alert, every rustle of leaves or the slightest movement of branches instantly attracting her attention.

Once she’d gone as far as she dared go before reaching open ground, she crouched behind the thick layer of branches and leaves and peered out towards the space beyond. Her view was right up to the house but there was no sign of Bianca or the other officers or SC Anderson. The shed blocked her view down to where she presumed there was a paddock.

Janet removed her shoes and placed them neatly beside one of the larger trees, hoping some creature wouldn’t decide to inhabit them or carry them off before she could regather them but right now she didn’t need them as the ground ahead was grassy and she’d be more agile without them. She set her sights on the large, open doorway where farm equipment was once manoeuvred in and out, scanned the surrounds one final time then took a deep breath which she held as she sprinted off, hell for leather, across the open space.

_"It shouldn't take so long to run such a short distance," Janet thought to herself as her arms pumped hard and she lifted her legs high. Now, out in the open, she was exposed and vulnerable. Sprinting wasn't her thing. She was better at long distances where her ability to fight through the pain barrier and hang in until the bitter end came to the fore. In her ears she could hear her heart thumping loudly and her lungs screamed for air but she dared not take time to breathe. She'd considered that maybe she should dodge and weave to make herself a more difficult target but with her sights fixed firmly on the doorway to the shed, she ran straight as an arrow until finally she reached the relative safety of its cover, releasing her one breath in a long, relieved gush of air as she did so._

__

Having been stripped bare, there was very little to see inside the shed so Janet was quick to spot the small room set in the back corner and in a few rapid paces she was at the door, her heart pounding against her rib cage, uncertain as to what she might find behind it. Her anxious fingers threw back the bolt then she shouldered it open and stood aside. Very little light penetrated the room but once Janet’s eyes adjusted they fell on a figure crouched in the far corner, its knees tucked up to its chest.  A fearful face marred with bruises and cuts, looked up at her.

The instant she realised it was Janet and not Anderson, Chrissie stood and flung her arms around her rescuer.

“I thought it was him… Anderson…. coming to get me,” she sobbed, the words catching in her throat that was desert-dry from lack of water.

Janet embraced the woman for a moment longer, only just managing to hold back her own tears but now that she had found Chrissie, thankfully alive and in one piece, she was anxious to get her to safety.

“Chrissie, we have to get out of here. Are you right to walk…run? It’s not far.”

Although weak from dehydration, Chrissie nodded as her arms, streaked with dirt and dry blood, fell to her side.

Janet wrapped a supportive arm around her waist as together they walked, a little unsteadily to begin with, towards the door.

oooOooo

From their vantage point among the dense spread of trees butting onto the property, Bianca and Jackson had a good fix on Anderson. He had walked approximately 150 metres from the house, Bianca estimated, to a less overgrown part of the paddock where he was using the shovel to dig a large, rectangular hole. With the recent rain, the soil was soft making it easy enough work although, with the heat of the day rapidly building, the sheen of sweat was clear on his forehead and dark patches of moisture had already formed under the sleeves and down the back of his shirt. Bianca struggled with the reality of what it was he was doing. _Were they already too late?_

Eventually, he stepped back, wiped his brow with the front of his shirt, and gauged his efforts then speared his shovel into the soil a few more times before finally tossing it aside.

Bianca looked at her watch nervously. The Emergency Response Team must be close but were they close enough?

Anderson bent down and picked up the length of material he’d been carrying and strode off towards the workshed on the opposite side of the property.

Realising where he was heading and why, Bianca quickly began scrambling back the way they had come, Jackson following in her wake.

Back with Constable Samuels, they crouched down out of sight once more to watch as Anderson continued his march across the property. Bianca noted that his gun was now in his hand rather than tucked in his waistband which indicated to her that her friend might still be alive but wouldn’t be for much longer if Anderson made it to the shed.

“We can’t let him go into that shed,” Bianca said firmly, “That has to be where he’s holding Dr Williams.”

The other two officers looked questioningly at each other, unsure as to how Sergeant Grieve was planning to stop him.

“And where the hell is ERT?” she muttered with furious impatience.

oooOooo

Having made it to the doorway, Janet stopped to allow Chrissie to gather her strength and to explain their next move.

“We need to make it to the cover of those bushes as fast as we can,” Janet said, pointing towards the spot about where she’d left her shoes. “It’s not far but we’re out in the open…exposed. Do you think you can make it?” Janet asked gently.

“I’m a sprinter from way back,” Chrissie replied with far more vim and vigour than she actually felt. She knew if she didn’t get some water soon she would collapse.

It was at this point that fate seemed to determine that everything should happen at once.

Bianca stood up and walked to where the bush gave way to open ground, her gun drawn. When Anderson was within range, she planted her feet astride and pointed her Glock 22 directly at him, holding it firmly in both hands and with both arms at full stretch, her finger resting lightly against the trigger, poised to fire.

She called out his name. He turned in surprise.

Unable to see what was happening elsewhere, it was at this same instant that Janet and Chrissie chose to make their dash from the shed to the bush.

There was the loud crack of a bullet leaving the barrel, followed in quick succession by the sound of two more bullets. Bodies fell to the ground.

Catching the movement out of the corner of his eye, Anderson had turned and fired at the two figures running from the shed. Both women instinctively ‘hit the deck’. Almost instantly, Bianca had pulled her trigger, catching Anderson in the hand and forcing him to release his weapon. She had quickly followed it with a second shot that sent a bullet tearing through the flesh of his thigh, shattering apart muscle and bone on its way and causing him to grasp his leg and collapse, writhing with the pain.

Jackson ran towards Anderson, handcuffs at the ready while Samuels radioed through for ambulances.  Bianca raced over to where Chrissie and Janet lay on the ground. Chrissie stirred and seeing Bianca, raised herself up onto her elbows. However, Janet remained motionless on the ground. Although her worst fears were initially allayed by the sight of the vest, Bianca’s automatic reaction was to check for a pulse and, to her relief, she found that Janet’s heart was beating strongly and she was still breathing. Without moving her, Bianca also looked for obvious signs of injury but there appeared to be none.

 “When we saw him holding a gun we both dived to the ground,” Chrissie said as she watched her friend grapple with what had happened, “she may have hit her head as she fell…. I think she’s concussed.”

While she held Janet’s hand, Bianca looked over and for the first time took in the extent of the other woman’s injuries. Beneath the crust of blood, a deep purple bruise coloured her left eye and almost the entire left side of her face, clearly defining a blow from a fist. Her nose was obviously broken and possibly her cheekbone. Her lips were split and caked in dry blood.

“Are you okay?” Bianca said although, considering her appearance, it seemed a stupid question to ask.

“I’ll survive,” she replied gamely.

“Apart from your face….he didn’t…. do anything else to you, did he?” Bianca hated to ask fearing the answer but she needed to know.

Chrissie shook her head slowly. “Is there any water around? I need water,” she managed to add as she carefully lowered herself back down on the ground.

“Of course,” Bianca replied then called out towards Jackson and Samuels who were now busily explaining what had happened to the leader of the Emergency Response Team which had arrived in time to hear the firing of guns and take Anderson into their custody.

It was as the sound of ambulance sirens could be heard nearing the property that Janet finally stirred. Her first instinct was to try and sit up but the swirling sensation in her head saw her instantly lay back down. A smiling but concerned Bianca convinced her to remain still at least until the paramedics had taken a look at her.

“We think you hit your head when you fell,” Bianca explained gently, “you’ve been unconscious for several minutes. Apart from your head, is there any other pain?”

Janet took a moment to inventory each part of her body for possible injury.

“My back… just below my left shoulder blade,” she finally replied.

oooOooo    

Once her lightheadedness had eased and it was clear she had no external injuries, it had taken some serious persuasion to convince Janet to allow the paramedics to take the precautionary measure of bracing her and putting her on a stretcher so the ambulance could transport her to hospital. It was only after Bianca explained to her that it was standard police procedure for treating any member of the public injured at a crime scene (which may have been a slight stretch of the truth) that she reluctantly conceded. Bianca also had to promise to retrieve her shoes and meet her at the hospital to take her home. Chrissie went more willingly in a second ambulance while Anderson was strapped into a third with an armed and burly ERT officer for company.

oooOooo

At the hospital, Janet endured a series of tests to ensure that the blow to her head hadn’t caused anything more serious than mild concussion. A set of x-rays was also taken and concluded that the pain emanating from below her left shoulder was caused by the severe bruising that was exposed when she removed her blouse rather than possible broken ribs. Anderson’s accuracy with a gun was impeccable. Janet didn’t care to contemplate the probable outcome had she not decided at the last minute to put on the flak jacket.

An insistent Ms King convinced the hospital staff that she didn’t need to be held in overnight for observation to which they eventually agreed provided she could arrange for someone to be with her for the next 24 hours. She was also under strict instructions to rest with no physical or mental exertion and she was to report back immediately if she experienced headaches, blurred vision or loss of co-ordination.

As promised, Bianca arrived at her hospital room carrying the retrieved shoes just as Janet had finished exchanging the hospital garb for her own clothes.

“This probably needs to go to forensics,” Janet said, taking the shoes and slipping them on then reaching towards the chair next to the bed where she picked up the Kevlar vest she’d been wearing.

Bianca couldn’t help but notice the conspicuous tear in the back of it where the bullet had hit, its force dispersing throughout the vest as it was designed to do, leaving Janet with bruising rather than a fatal wound. The bullet was still lodged in the last layers of the vest. A sickening sensation churned in her stomach at the thought of what might have happened if Janet hadn’t worn it or if Chrissie had been on the other side of her.

“Next time I tell you to stay in the car, maybe you’ll listen,” Bianca said looking at the hole and trying to sound stern but coming up short. Things may have turned out quite differently if Anderson had made it to the shed and Chrissie had still been there, cornered in the room alone. “Not that there will be a next time,” she added.

Janet reached for Bianca’s hand and squeezed it gently.

“Can you take me home?” she asked wearily.  She was over being poked and prodded. The events of the day, as well as all the painkillers she had been given, were taking their toll. A wave of tiredness washed over her.

“Sure,” Bianca replied, a small, forgiving smile passing across her lips.

oooOooo

Bianca had wanted to be the one to stay with Janet but now that they had Anderson in custody, the clock was ticking. He needed to be questioned, charges needed to be laid, a statement had to be taken and any necessary follow-up investigations co-ordinated and carried out, all without delay. It was now that the more tedious but equally-important part of police work began. There were operational processes to go through and strict protocols to follow and it was her responsibility to oversee that it was all done to the letter of the law leaving no loopholes for the convicted to climb through so, although Janet claimed that she was fine and didn’t require ‘babysitting’, at Bianca’s insistence and under threat of being driven back to the hospital, Janet had phoned her mother to come and look after her.

“I’ll call you tonight just to see how you’re going. Okay?” Bianca said as they sat in the car outside Janet’s house.

“Of course,” Janet replied as she concentrated on the search for her house keys.

As she plucked them from the bottom of her bag she looked over at Bianca, blue eyes capturing blue. Any other time, one might have leaned over and kissed the other but instead, the tenuousness that hung over their personal situation left nothing more than a moment of uncomfortable silence.

As their gaze broke and Janet went to open the car door, Bianca asked, “How serious are you about this job in Fiji?”

Janet leaned back in her seat again and peered up the street at nothing in particular as she gathered her thoughts.

“I’m not sure. Since the children…since the Peta Vickers thing, I’ve felt out of sorts at the DPP. Maybe I need do something different for a while or to be somewhere else and this might be the perfect opportunity but….”

“What about us? You and me?” It was the question Bianca had wanted to ask from the start but it had sounded selfish, however, the more it played on her mind, the less she cared how selfish it was. She loved this woman, for crying out loud, but if she was going to leave there was no real point to making her feelings known. It might help her cause in convincing her to stay but Bianca wasn’t fond of emotional blackmail. As frustrating as it was, all she could do was hope that all the cards fell in her favour.

“Two years isn’t really that long. We could do it. We could skype and you could visit us for a holiday,” Janet reasoned, “and I thought perhaps you might take some extended leave and stay with us for a while…”

“Extended leave?” Bianca gave a sardonic laugh. “How would I pay the bills if I was on extended leave? They don’t just miraculously go away, Janet. Anyway, I’m in the process of going for a promotion. Any leave in the foreseeable future would put pay to that.”

One look at the hurt expression on Janet’s face told her that her words had bitten hard. She hadn’t intended to sound so cruel, it wasn’t her nature but she was desperate not to have her heart broken again by this woman.

Suddenly there was a cry of ‘Mummy… mummy” from the doorway where the twins now stood, waving furiously at her. Hovering over them was Janet’s mother.

“I’m sorry, Janet,” Bianca said more gently as Janet reached for the door handle once more. “I didn’t mean to sound so… dismissive…it’s been a long day. We need to talk about this properly at some stage… when you’re feeling better… but in the end, I guess, it’s your life and you have to do what is best for you and the children.”

“Yes, I do,” Janet replied in a voice that was low and even but edged with flint. She opened the door and stepped from the car.

Bianca watched as she walked through the gate and to the door where she scooped the children into her arms, all without so much as a glance back at her.

oooOooo

Since then, it was to be several days before Janet laid eyes on Bianca again. As promised, she had called later that evening after Janet’s visit to the hospital to check that she was recovering from her concussion. Initially, Robyn, Janet’s mother, had picked up the phone before Janet, herself, could get to it and she was in the process of telling Bianca that her daughter was resting and wasn’t taking any calls when Janet managed to tussle it from her.

The ensuing conversation had been a brief one. Bianca had asked her how she was feeling. _Did she have a headache? Was her vision blurred at all? Did she need anything?_ Janet assured her that apart from the fact that her mother’s overbearing nature was driving her to distraction after only a few hours, she was perfectly fine. Bianca once again apologised for the harsh tone she had used that afternoon to which Janet replied that, as far as she was concerned, the incident was forgotten. It had been a tough day and they had both probably said things they didn’t mean.

That call had been four days ago. In the days that followed, she’d received three or four brief text messages from her inquiring as to her health but that was all.

Although Janet sorely missed her company, she knew all too well that following the arrest of Josh Anderson, every bit of Bianca’s time and effort would be consumed with tying up all the loose ends to the investigation. She would also be up to her ears in the resultant paperwork. It was paramount these days to have every ‘i’ precisely dotted and every ‘t’ accurately crossed and Bianca would be absorbed in doing exactly that. Despite desperately wanting to hear her voice and to try to smooth out the waters between them, Janet had decided that it was best she left her to finish the job, undisturbed by other matters particularly ones of a personal nature.

In the time she had to herself, Janet rigorously went through all the pros and cons of a possible two-year stint in Fiji training up young prosecutors. It was certainly the new challenge she craved and she was well-endowed with the necessary skills and knowledge with which to enlighten her students, although she wasn’t convinced she had the level of patience such a job would require. Maybe it would help her to develop in that area. She was certainly open to some personal growth. The learning didn’t have to be all one way. 

As for the children, although they were due to start at the local pre-school next year, the job would allow her significantly more time to spend with them which was a plus in itself, and she felt that she was more than capable of schooling them in the skills they would need to start when they returned. Besides that, Janet had always gone by the philosophy that education wasn’t a thing to be confined to the four walls of a classroom nor was it limited to the 3Rs. In Fiji they would experience first-hand, the ways of other people and other cultures. Hopefully, such exposure to the variations that exist in the world would help them to develop an empathy and understanding, as well as an appreciation for what they had, traits that were severely lacking in present times.

When pitching the job to her, Tony had explained that serviced accommodation would be part of her payment. She could rent out her Sydney house at a rate that would see it pay for itself for that period of time which would significantly improve her finances. _What wasn’t to like about that, she thought._ Although money was never an issue thanks to a well-paid job and a lifestyle that was in no way excessive, it would be an added bonus.

As she mulled over the situation, she found herself struggling to come up with any viable ‘cons’. The only one that loomed large on her list and was impossible to get around was her relationship with Bianca. If she went to Fiji what would become of it? Could they maintain a long-distance relationship or would they part company? Was her love for Bianca…for that’s what she now recognised it as and was willing to admit to it being, _love_ …. justification enough to stay in Sydney? These were questions for which she had no answer and which she had pondered over for much of the last few days.

It was Sunday evening, just as Janet was coming back down the stairs after reading the children a story and tucking them into their beds, her thoughts caught up by the fact that she wasn’t the only one missing Bianca…the twins had both asked her several times in the last day or so, “Where’s Bibi?”… that there was an unexpected knock at the door.

Puzzled as to who might be calling at this odd hour, Janet opened the door cautiously and was pleasantly surprised to see Bianca standing there on her front doorstep.

“Come in,” Janet said enthusiastically, unable to contain the smile that instantly spread across her face.

It was obvious from her outfit…black trousers and boots, the matching jacket probably lying on the front seat of her car and her white shirt with the tiny black dots… that Bianca had come straight from work.

“I didn’t call,” she said apologetically, “I hope that’s okay. I can go if it’s not a good time.”

“No. Stay…. please. Come in.”

Bianca stepped across the threshold proffering the bottle of red wine she’d stopped off and bought on the way over.

“Here, this is for you,” she said a little coyly, “a peace offering if you like.”

Janet flashed her another smile as she relieved her of the bottle. “You didn’t have to, you know. We’re good.”

“I wanted to. I hope it tastes alright. I haven’t tried it before but I liked the picture on the label…”

“Only one way to find out,” Janet said as she led them towards the kitchen, unscrewing the top as she went. “Would you like some?”

“Sure…. Are the kids in bed?” Bianca asked, having noticed the quiet that reigned over the place.

“I’ve just finished reading them a story so hopefully they’re asleep. Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.”

“There’s leftovers in the fridge from dinner if you’d like some? Tonight was Indian curry night,” Janet offered as she reached down the wine glasses and began to pour.

“That would be great. I’m starving now that you mention it.”

Janet nudged one of the wine glasses towards Bianca then proceeded to delve into the fridge, pulling out several containers and placing them on the bench.

“Help yourself,” she said as she removed the plastic lids and passed Bianca a plate and some cutlery.

With food on her plate and wine in her glass, Bianca followed Janet as they moved to the dining table.

“I was wondering when… or even _if_ … I was going to see you again,” Janet said, only half-joking.

“Sorry. I should have called,” Bianca replied as she tore off a section of the naan and dipped it in the sauce that flavoured what was possibly lamb korma.

Janet waved the idea away with hand and a shake of her head.

“It’s been so hectic trying to wind up this investigation. It hasn’t been anywhere near as straightforward as it should’ve been…but then, they never are. You’d think I’d know better.”

As Bianca ate, Janet sat opposite her, happy enough to enjoy the woman’s presence in amiable silence. Every so often she sipped her wine as she quietly observed the face she had missed so much. As she did, she couldn’t help but notice the dark circles that were beginning to form beneath each eye and the fine lines that creased her forehead. Her mouth, usually lively and often on the verge of a smile, now drooped uncharacteristically at the corners. Bianca was tired. Long hours of work and trouble turning off her mind and finding sleep were taking their toll, Janet guessed, as it had often been her own experience on a big case.

“How’s Chrissie?” Janet eventually asked.

“Physically, she’s on the mend…she’s sustained a broken nose and cheekbone and there’s the bruising…but mentally… I’m not sure. She’s strong but it’s an awful thing to go through. Anyway, she’s staying at my place for now. She doesn’t want to be alone at night. I’m not home much during the day but I’m there in the evenings. I called to tell her I might be late tonight so she’s asked a friend over.”

“Rose wouldn’t take her in?” Janet hoped her words didn’t sound uncaring but Rose had seemed the more obvious choice.

“That relationship is on hold at the moment. I think, with everything that is going on, it’s too complicated.”

“Is she staying in the study?”

“No… In Rhys’ room. He met someone while he was holidaying up on the north coast and he’s convinced this guy is ‘ _the one’_ so he’s decided to move in with him for a month or two to see how it works out…and they talk about _lesbians_ and their U-hauls.”

Bianca took another mouthful of curry and then, seeing her joke whizz over the top of Janet’s head, she added, “You were right about Margaret Delaney and Denise Bradshaw… on all three counts.”

Janet couldn’t restrain a mental fist pump which showed on her face as simply a lift of the eyebrows and a small grin.

“They are lovers …and were involved in the death of Lance Bradshaw…well, we think it was only Margaret Delaney at this stage….and they were about to disappear overseas…a week in Bali and then on to England where both have dual citizenship.”

“Did they admit to all of that?” Although the news confirmed her theory, she  was still slightly stunned to learn she had been so accurate.

“Eventually.”

“How did arresting Anderson come to involve them?” Janet knew she should let Bianca finish her meal in peace but she couldn’t contain her curiosity.

“As well as charging him with abducting Chrissie, we also charged him with the killing of Francis Wilkie. When he was questioned about it, he admitted to stealing a car and running Wilkie off the road. He claimed that he was paid by Margaret Delaney to do it. That was enough information for us to bring her and Denise in. Fortunately, our visit that day had delayed them long enough to make them miss their flight. We were able to grab them at the airport as they waited for the next one.”

“What exactly did Margaret Delaney confess to?”

“She stuck to the gambling story at first and denied having ever having spoken to Anderson let alone asking him to kill Wilkie…”

“She probably realised fairly quickly that it was only his word against hers.”

“It was only when I mentioned that we would be interviewing Denise Bradshaw and wanting to know her part in it all and that it could possibly lead to us charging Denise, that she broke down and told us the full story.”

“Which was?”

Bianca watched as Janet’s fingers slowly twirled the stem of her wine glass. She felt an overwhelming urge to reach across and entwine them with her own, to have some sort of physical contact with her but instead, she took a sip of her wine and tore off another piece of naan.

“Margaret and Denise have been having a clandestine relationship for almost five years but they decided they’d had enough of hiding and wanted to live together openly as a couple.”

“Why didn’t they both just divorce their husbands like everyone else rather than kill them? Were they planning to kill Sid Delaney as well?”

“I asked the same question. Margaret Delaney explained that unlike herself, Denise didn’t have any money of her own…it was all in joint accounts and very much under her husband’s control. They were convinced that any attempt by Denise to divorce Lance Bradshaw was sure to become a protracted, ugly and possibly very public affair and he would make certain that it was years before she saw any of the money she was entitled to so Margaret Delaney decided to take things into her own hands. She planned it all. She knew Bradshaw was going to her husband’s dinner and would most likely come home in a very drunken state. She offered Wilkie $25000 to go to Lance Bradshaw’s house that night, dress him in the corset, fishnets and wig, put him in a compromising pose with the drugs and alcohol clearly evident and then take several photos. The plan being to blackmail him and get the money they needed that way… she got the idea from some TV crime show apparently.” Bianca couldn’t help a wry smile and a shake of the head. It never failed to amuse her in a pitiful sort of way when people confused the fiction of television with the actuality of real life.

“So Denise was happy to go along with it?”

“According to Margaret, Denise knew nothing about the plan. Margaret was the one who suggested she visit her father that weekend so that she was out of the way….and, after you phoned Renner suggesting they look into Margaret’s bank accounts they found the electronic receipt for the outfit that Bradshaw was found wearing… the whole lot had been bought from a local sex shop with her visa card.”

Noticing that Bianca’s plate was now empty, Janet offered her some more of the curry but Bianca declined. Her appetite was now fully appeased.

“Do you believe her about Denise not being involved?”

Bianca nodded. “When we interviewed Denise, she appeared genuinely shocked when we told her about the plan. Margaret was going to collect the money from the bribe, tell Denise she’d had a windfall and give it to her so they could both afford to leave… except, of course, instead of just dressing Bradshaw up and taking photos, Wilkie accidently kills him….and here’s the interesting part… Wilkie took his mate, Michael Collins, along to help him do the job. That’s why the tablets that started this whole investigation were at the scene. When they realised what they’d done, they tried to make it look like an accidental drowning but that was never going to work once the forensics came in.”

“So, Sid Delaney’s driver, Cherie Allen and her boyfriend, Marcus Dodd, are innocent as we suspected. We can drop the charges.”

Bianca nodded.

Intrigued by the proverbial web of deception that had been spun, Janet asked, “Why did Margaret Delaney have Anderson run Wilkie off the road and down a mountain?”

“She claims that she only paid Anderson to scare him off…there was no mention of killing him. That was Anderson’s own interpretation. Wilkie was being greedy. He’d taken the original twenty-five thousand for the job which he’d botched but then he wanted another twenty-five thousand or he threatened to go to Sid Delaney and tell him what she was up to… that’s the money she was giving him on the day Chrissie saw them talking. Anderson happened to be at the house and she was infuriated with Wilkie so she asked Anderson to ‘warn him off’…. That’s probably why the CCTV footage from the front of Delaney’s place was wiped…. so we wouldn’t see Anderson arrive or leave.”

“I guess with Wilkie dead, we’ll never know why he killed Michael Collins.”

“Anderson says that Franky knew Collins had been picked up by us and he was paranoid that he might give us information about the accident with Bradshaw to save his own skin…to cut a deal. I doubt we’ll ever really know for sure.”

“It makes sense, though…in a sick, sordid sort of way. It sounds like your SC Anderson isn’t cut from the same cloth as his father although I’ve often had my doubts there too when I had occasion to deal with him.”

“He’s formally admitted to abducting Chrissie and breaking into the forensics facility where he took Michael Collins’ phone and SIM card as well as running Wilkie off the road resulting in his death and to knowing Michael Collins. We’ve also been able to prove that it was Anderson who stole the drugs from the consignment we confiscated which he then gave to Collins to sell…we’re sure he has connections higher up and is privy to some very damning information but he’s remaining tight-lipped on that count. Unless we can guarantee him full immunity on all charges, a new identity and safe passage overseas, he says his life isn’t worth sharing what he knows.”

Janet raised a questioning eyebrow at that statement.

“You’re not considering it, are you?”

“He’s not going anywhere except prison,” Bianca replied, “we’ll keep digging until we find something to connect him…. Collins’ phone records could be quite telling and the information your researcher found on Sid Delaney makes for interesting reading…Like I said, we’re very busy at the moment.”

Suddenly, there came a small cry from midway on the stairs.

“Muuuum.”

Both women looked up to see Liam making his way sleepily towards them.

“What’s up, sweetheart,” Janet asked gently, pushing her chair back to make room on her knee for him, “not more nightmares?”

“No,” he said shaking his head of blonde curls, “I’m thirsty.”

Just as he was about to climb onto his mother’s lap, he roused from his sleepy state enough to recognise the figure sitting on the other side of the table.

“Bibi,” he cried out as he ran around the table and flung himself onto Bianca’s lap instead. “I’ve missed you. Pop Larsson gave me a new carriage for my train set. Do you want to see it?”

“I’ve missed you too and I’d love to see your new carriage,” Bianca laughed, “but not tonight…it’s late. Another time, I promise.”

“Tomorrow?”

“We’ll see.”

“Bianca’s very busy at the moment,” Janet explained, “but she’ll come over as soon as she can.” Janet caught Bianca’s eye and gave her a hopeful glance.

“Sure.”

While Bianca discussed train carriages with Liam, Janet disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a small cup of water which she handed to her son.

“Only a couple of mouthfuls,” she instructed.

Liam made a point of counting out three large gulps before giving the cup back to his mother along with a cheeky grin.

“Now back to sleep,” she said as she helped him from Bianca’s lap and walked him up to his bed, via the bathroom.  

When Janet returned, she collected up Bianca’s plate and her own empty wine glass and headed into the kitchen. Bianca followed as far as the kitchen island and watched as Janet rinsed the plates and cutlery and placed them on the drainer. She seemed suddenly preoccupied.

“Should I pour us another glass of wine,” Bianca asked, jolting her from her thoughts.

Janet looked over at her. It was as if she had forgotten for the moment that Bianca was there.

“Are you okay,” Bianca asked, her voice full of concern, “maybe you shouldn’t be drinking so soon after a concussion.  
“I’m fine,” she replied, drying her hands on a tea towel, “I was thinking, that’s all.”

“About what?’

“Oh…just stuff.” Bianca didn’t push her for more information. It would come when she was ready.

Janet waited as Bianca poured the wine and then, taking her glass, headed towards the living room where she sat on the sofa. Normally, she would tuck her legs up and make herself comfortable but instead, she sat up rather stiffly on the edge of the cushion with her drink in her hand. Bianca sat beside her but taking care not to sit too close…not as close as she would usually sit. As she did so, she couldn’t help but notice that the Fiji brochures still sat on the coffee table and they were now joined by a Lonely Planet guide to Fiji. Janet noticed her notice.

“I’m not going,” Janet said in almost a whisper.

With her glass half-way to her lips, Bianca stopped and looked at her, not quite believing what she was hearing.

“Are you sure?”

Janet nodded as she took a sip of her wine. “I’ve thought it through and I’ve decided not to take the job?’

“I thought you said you needed a new challenge… a change of scenery,” Bianca said, echoing the words she’d heard Janet say several times recently, her expression a mixture of relief and confusion.

“I do…but I’ve decided to apply for Tony’s job instead, when it comes up. That should be challenge enough.”

“What if you don’t get it? I mean, you should, you’re the most qualified and the most experienced person for that job but that isn’t always how it works…”

“If I don’t get the job then maybe I’ll try something completely different,” Janet answered with a simple smile which confused Bianca even further. Her career was virtually everything to her, or so Bianca thought.

“What made you decide not to take the job,” Bianca dared to ask.

Like two magnets pulling, their bodies had moved closer together on the sofa.

“I’ve thought about it a lot over the last few days and there’s a lot of reasons why I should take the job and go to Fiji but there’s one very good reason why I shouldn’t.” Janet looked up at Bianca and caught her steadfast in her blue-eyed gaze. “Happiness. I want to be happy again and being with you makes me happy…. I love you… Loving you makes me very happy.”

Bianca couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Those were the words she’d been wanting to hear for so long, the words that would allow her to express her own feelings but before she could reply in kind, Janet’s hands held her face and she felt Janet’s mouth pressed gently against her own.

When their lips finally parted, Bianca couldn’t help but ask, “Are you sure you’ve made the right decision?”

“Do you want me to go?” Janet said, a look of consternation on her face.

“No, of course not. I love you too, Janet, very much,” she replied, “but I want you to do what is best for you and the twins.”

“This is what is best for us but…”

“But what?” Bianca asked, the apprehension clear in her voice.

“But I was hoping we could still go to Fiji…on a holiday….for a week… when this investigation wraps up. It would give us chance to spend some time together…. just you and me.  We could do all that talking you’re so fond of,” she said with a teasing smile, “and other stuff…. My mother could take the twins while we’re away…”

Bianca dropped her gaze to her lap.

“I don’t think so, Janet…”

The words took Janet by surprise. She had to fight back tears that instantly filled her eyes and she struggled to control the quiver of her chin. She thought she’d got it right this time. _Would she ever get it right?_

She felt Bianca’s fingers slip unexpectedly into her hair and tilt her head up so that their eyes met once more. Through the watery film of her tears, she was bemused to see that there was the hint of a grin on Bianca’s face.

“But if you make it two weeks…. and we take the twins…I’m in.” Bianca’s grin was now a full-blown smile.

“You little shit,” Janet replied as she realised she’d been ‘had’ but she too found herself with an ever-expanding smile on her face.

Before Janet could become too upset with her, Bianca wrapped her arms around her and drew her into another kiss, one that became deep and languid and that served to wash away the troubles of the past and made fresh promises for the future.

**_A/N: We’re not quite done yet, folks. Almost but not quite………_ **

**_ Epilogue _ **

“Hello, gorgeous woman,” Janet whispered in Bianca’s ear as she sidled up behind her in the luxurious, king-sized bed of their beachfront ‘bure’.

An habitual early-riser ever since having the twins, Janet had been up for over an hour in which time she’d completed what had become her holiday routine of beating out a morning run along the beach, enjoying the feel of her leg muscles working hard against the wet sand as she jogged along the water’s edge as far as the next bay and back…about three kilometres, she estimated. Now she was freshly-emerged from a shower, her hair tousled from a brisk rub with the towel and her body bare. Without bothering to don any clothing, she slipped neatly back between the white sheets of the bed and tucked herself in behind Bianca who was indulging in her own holiday ritual of a lie-in, something she rarely had the opportunity to do at home.

There was a muted groan from the slumbering figure…Janet wasn’t sure if it was one of pleasure or complaint….as she past her arm across Bianca’s hip and gently cupped a breast with her hand. Propping herself up on the other elbow, Janet was content for now to simply lie beside her, her hand resting where it was, fully-conscious of the loveliness of the woman and her senses heightened to the delight of their bodies spooned so closely together. As she kept watch over her sleepy friend, Janet thought about (and not for the first time of late) how fortunate she was, although she wouldn’t have said that about herself nearly three years ago when fate had delivered her the cruelest of blows. She’d believed for a long time that she’d never recover from the loss of Ash, her partner in life, her lover and the co-parent of the twins, but with substantial help from friends and her therapist, she’d managed to crawl out from beneath all the sadness and anger and fear and found that she was capable of and, more importantly, wanting to love again. Some people never find that special person to share a lifetime with and here she was, lucky enough to find such a love twice. An involuntary shudder past through her at the thought of how close she’d come to tossing it away. Having been with Bianca for several months now, in which time they’d had their fair share of ups and downs, she knew, without a doubt, that she was ready to share her life again. Leaning forward, she placed a light, proprietary peck on Bianca’s cheek.

When she’d come in from her run, she’d pushed back the large, sliding doors at the front of their hut allowing in the faintly salty breeze which kept the temperature comfortably cool for now. From where they lay, Janet could peer out past the living room to the picturesque scene of white sand and calm, turquoise water framed by palms that made up their own private beach. It was the stuff picture postcards were made of and seemed quite surreal after the events of previous weeks.

“Any chance of you getting up soon?” Janet inquired as she kissed the top of Bianca’s head affectionately.

The response was an unintelligible mumble.

Not to be deterred, Janet nudged aside several stray strands of the woman’s dark hair and pressed her lips against that delicate spot below Bianca’s ear, her warm tongue reaching for and lightly teasing the soft flesh of its lobe where a simple, silver earring hung. This time, Janet was fairly certain the moan she drew was one of appreciation.

Encouraged by the reaction, Janet continued her kisses, nothing more than faint, wet touches with her lips, along Bianca’s bare shoulder. At the same time, her hand slowly caressed first one breast and eventually the other, smiling to herself as she felt their tips rise and firm to her touch. In turn, she gently rolled each one beneath her thumb until she felt Bianca squirm a little, an arm finally moving to reach back and pull Janet in even closer to her.

“Do you want me to stop?” Janet whispered in her ear, the flurry of her warm breath further fanning the fire she was bent on creating.

“God. No!” was all Bianca could manage as she pressed Janet’s hand more firmly against her breast.

The sudden vehemence of Bianca’s plea forced Janet to stifle a laugh as she slowly drew back the sheet that covered them so she could admire and have better access to the body that lay next to hers.

After a week of relaxation on their Fijian island, all the signs of stress and tiredness that had begun to show during the gruelling Anderson case…. the dark circles under her eyes and the fine lines that had formed on her forehead… had disappeared. Her face now looked peaceful and well-rested and, in Janet’s opinion, utterly beautiful. Her body, which was always taut and trim and now had the added glow of light tan, was all too enticing and Janet was unable to resist trailing her fingers delicately over it, beginning at her shoulder and slowly following the line of her arm to the elbow then changing tack to the smooth contours of her hip and thigh. Another moan emanated from somewhere within Bianca’s pillow.

As Janet’s hand worked its way slowly across her stomach and along each thigh towards the dark curls at their apex, tiny, electric tingles spread through her whole body and culminated at that very spot. Bianca was forced to finally give up the charade of sleeping.

Catching Janet by surprise, Bianca rolled onto her back, buried her hands in the mane of blonde hair and brought their mouths together in a brief but intense kiss.

As their lips parted, Bianca propped herself up against her pillow a little more and asked, “Where are Emma and Liam?”

Usually by this hour of the morning, if she wasn’t already up, the twins had bounded into the room and were telling her it was time for breakfast.

“I’ve arranged for Jade to take them to breakfast this morning,” Janet replied offhandedly.

“Oh. Have you?” Bianca teased, refusing to be taken in by the casualness of her tone. “Did you do that for a reason? Do you have something particular in mind?”

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean.” Janet answered, almost maintaining the pretence but for the spark in her eye and the barely perceptible grin. “Anyway, after breakfast, Jade’s taking them to Kids’ Club… There’s face painting there this morning. Emma wants a tiger and Liam wants Spiderman…or is it the other way around… Anyway, they’ll be busy for ages.”

“I have to admit that bringing the babysitter along was a stroke of genius,” Bianca said as she leaned forward and tucked a stray stand of blonde hair behind Janet’s ear, allowing her hand to then follow an invisible line along her slender neck and down between her breasts before lacing her fingers loosely with Janet’s. Janet gave a quick shiver as the sensation of Bianca’s touch caused a sudden flutter at her centre.

“Maybe we should take advantage of my stroke of genius while we can,” Janet suggested as she placed a leg over Bianca’s hip then lowered herself until she could plant a kiss on her chin…her cheek… and eventually her mouth, Bianca yielding instantly to the assertiveness of those lips and the insistence of her tongue.

Tugging gently on Bianca’s lower lip with her teeth, Janet moved her kisses from Bianca’s mouth to her breasts, her tongue swirling and teasing each plump nipple in turn until she could feel Bianca’s hips start to strain and stir beneath her. Gradually, Janet worked her way further down the length of the lithe body, coming to rest with her lower half between Bianca’s legs. Here, she turned her attention to the sensitive skin of Bianca’s inner thighs where her mouth left a flurry of warm, soft kisses.

As Janet pressed her lips into the crisp, dark curls between her legs, she felt Bianca’s hips rise to meet them, her legs spreading wider and her hands dipping into her hair, guiding Janet’s mouth to where she wanted… needed it to be. Without the need for further encouragement, Bianca soon felt Janet’s tongue, warm and mobile, inside her… stroking her, playing her, moving to the rhythm she set, increasing it as she needed, pressing more firmly when the urgency demanded… sending one surge of pleasure after another leaping through her body until, with a final cry, her hips rolled one last time, her body shuddered, stiffened then fell back limply onto the sheets.

Moving her way back up to join Bianca, leaving one or two kisses in her wake, Janet too, tumbled on the bed beside her, their legs and arms entwined.

With one part of her desire sated, Bianca leaned over to satisfy the other, placing a firm kiss on Janet’s mouth, a tussle of lips, tongues and teeth. Suddenly Janet pulled away.

“You do know that I love you,” she said still breathing hard as she caught Bianca eyes with her own.

“I love you too,” Bianca replied with her warmest smile, “but _this_ works better if you don’t speak.”

With a playful grin on her face, Janet replied, “I thought you wanted us to talk more.”

Calling her bluff, Bianca sat up and moved to the middle of the bed.

“We can talk if you would prefer,” she said with that glint in her eye that Janet had come to realise meant ‘trouble’.

Not about to let Bianca get the better of her, a trait Bianca was quietly but confidently counting on, Janet shuffled over to join her. Facing her, she wrapped a leg either side of Bianca and hung her arms loosely around Bianca’s shoulders.

“What would you like to talk about?” Bianca teased.

Janet went to answer but her words came out as a slow hiss as Bianca moved in to nip and kiss the curve of her neck while, at the same time, she tucked a hand between Janet’s legs and eased two fingers into her wetness, moving them in slow, delicate strokes to start with, creating a sensation that left Janet totally incapable of speech.

As Bianca’s fingers pressed more firmly, moving them now in ever-decreasing circles as she homed in on her centre, Janet pulled her closer and clung to her for dear life as she worked herself against Bianca’s hand with a slick, quickening motion, the tension building to an unbearable point within her.

Finally, when she could take no more, Janet tossed her head back and let out a low cry as the release washed over her in wave after wave of glorious ecstasy. Bianca held her tightly in her arms, her head resting on Janet’s bare shoulder.

As the tide of pleasure slowly ebbed, Janet hooked a finger lazily beneath Bianca’s chin and drew her lips to her own for a series of languid kisses.

With their energy completely spent, the two women lay tucked together under the cover of the sheet once more and briefly napped for it wasn’t long before they were disrupted by the sound of small, cheery voices and were greeted by the sight of a ferocious-looking ‘tiger’ and a miniature ‘Spiderman’ standing at the end of the bed, begging to be taken to the beach.

oooOOOooo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is now complete. Thank you for reading. I have everything crossed in hopes that there will be a series 4 of Janet King and that Janet and Bianca will still be with us.


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